


Shadowhunters: The Children of Flames

by Fluxx, KioneM



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Anal, Bottom Magnus Bane, Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, F/M, Family, Family Issues, Gen, Hallucinations, I wish there was a way to tag chapter-by-chapter, M/M, Malec, Multi, OC Fuckery, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Parabatai, Parabatai Bond, Parabatai Feels, Professional Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Secrets, Sibling Incest, Smut, They Make The Best Kindling, To Be Continued, Top Alec Lightwood, Yakuza, an armada of ships, clace, if there is please let me know, what the fuck is even happening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:12:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 93,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluxx/pseuds/Fluxx, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KioneM/pseuds/KioneM
Summary: It's been a relatively uneventful year since the conclusion of Valentine Morgenstern's Uprising, and the New York Institute has finally come to enjoy some semblance of peace. Amid the quiet they've come to enjoy, a Clave Elite moves to the Institute, two twin children in tow, and Magnus grows suspicious of a local club's newest talent. The Shadowhunters diligently investigate each of these seemingly innocuous arrivals, and soon find themselves in the middle of a decades-old conflict between the Clave and a secret faction of Shadowhunters.Intimacy Index:Ch 7 - Malec [NSFW]Ch 10 - ClaceCh 11 - Mar/Daraiya [minimal, but NSFW]Follow this fic onmy tumblr.





	1. Aftertaste

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lq-h8dxl9g&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU&index=1)\--]

He couldn't remember another time he'd been this happy.

It was a nice day out, the sun gently shining down from behind a spattering of fluffy, white clouds. Periodically, a soft breeze rustled the green grass at his feet, and he'd have to once again tuck strands of his blonde hair back behind his ear. He smiled, marveling at how trivial a thing had come to be his greatest worry - not even the daughter chasing butterflies across their lawn ever drew ire, and he knew with full confidence she was safe.

He would protect them.

"You will, right?"

A delicate hand slipping into the crook of his elbow pulled his smile to the side. His lips parted to reply - _of course_ he would.

But his voice caught in his throat, and his brow furrowed. Confusion disturbed his multi-colored eyes as they searched the woman beside him.

"...Clary?"

Her hand tightened upon his arm, her expression growing somber. "Promise me. Promise me you'll help them."

He yanked his arm from her hand, turning to face her fully. A paranoid fear had begun to grow, the sky above thickening with the threat of rain. "What's going on? Help who?" He looked her head-to-toe, trying to convince himself it wasn't her, but unable to deny it. His heart began to race. "Why... Why are you... ?"

Somehow, the answer was already in his mind. He turned to find the child - she was waving at him, face brightly framed in a mess of strawberry-blonde hair, a single butterfly perched upon her outstretched hand.

Clary's hands found his face, forcing him to look back at her. An intense desperation entered her eyes. "Don't let them deceive you."

" _Who_ , Clary?!" He grabbed her wrists and pulled them down, his anxiety reaching its peak. "What are you—?"

"Jace?"

He spun in the direction of the voice, stumbling back and catching himself against the chilling stone of his cell's wall. His heart pounding in his chest, his lips trembled as he hesitantly ventured, "...Hodge?"

His question was met with an exasperated sigh. "It's not like I've been magically freed." An eerie, quiet stillness fell between them, during which Jace struggled to make sense of where and when he was. After an extended moment, Hodge broke the silence. "Another nightmare, huh?"

Finally, he started calming down. _The City of Bones. The Silent Brothers. I'm on trial._ Bleak though his realizations were, he found them oddly comforting... grounding. Even still, as he looked to the bars separating him from the world he found himself weighted with more questions the more he remembered. A part of him wanted to tell Hodge the truth, as if talking it out with the one-handed traitor might help him discern why the Silent Brothers would ever gift him with a vision of happiness.

But something else was tugging at the back of his mind, hiding a truth deep inside the recesses of his consciousness that he was almost afraid to observe too closely.

"...Yeah. Nightmare."

"I thought I told you to stop trying to sleep?"

Sliding down the wall of his confinements, he released a sigh and attempted to finish gathering himself. "Sorry," he muttered absentmindedly. A mild scoff repaid his odd reply, but no further words followed, and for that Jace was thankful. He didn't have time to be dwelling over such bizarre and nonsensical visions.

He had a trial to prepare for.

* * *

Jace never mentioned the vision to anyone - why would he? It was little more than a dream, a fortuitous lapse in the Silent Brothers' hold over their prisoner's unguarded minds. In any case, the days which followed were filled with far more important matters. Dealing with Valentine and the resulting fallout consumed every spare moment, leaving little room for reprieve especially when it came to the infamous traitor's children. Truth be told, Jace came to forget his dream in its entirety hardly a month after his imprisonment, and it wasn't until nearly a year later that the familiar whispers tickled the back of his neck once more.

The world seemed suspended in a rare stretch of peace - as peaceful as it ever got, anyway. The Mundanes still fought their squabbles, and the demons still clasped for fresh prey, and the Downworlders still danced the delicate line between the two. Still, there was no uprising, no war, no great threat that challenged the stability of their world. Even still, Jace found himself restless, a state Alec was graciously willing to help him through.

"You're just bored," he remarked, an arm slipping between his head and Jace's fist at the last moment.

Jace retracted just enough to throw a few more focused strikes, each of them effortlessly blocked, then stepped in and spun around Alec's defenses. "Ridiculous," he breathed, throwing an uppercut towards Alec's defenseless side.

Alec twisted out of the way a hair too late, catching the graze of Jace's knuckles and stumbling back, but fine for the most part. "Yeah?" Before Jace could reply, it was his turn to go on the offensive, feinting to the side before ducking low to sweep a kick to the back of Jace's legs.

Jace caught the move on the edge of his sight, quickly throwing himself back onto his hands and completing a flip over Alec's leg. A round-kick followed, aimed to Alec's other side. "A lull like this should be a _good_ thing."

This time, Alec was fast enough to step just out of range. "Maybe," he conceded. Time to get creative - while Jace was still finishing the follow-through from his kick, Alec swung around his elbow, aiming to catch Jace in the jaw.

It worked. Jace reeled from the hit, one hand catching himself against a nearby pillar while the other checked his mouth for blood. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" he scoffed, looking up with weary eyes.

Alec sighed, dropping his hands. It'd been a decent spar, but Jace just wasn't in it, and he could tell. Something really _was_ bothering his parabatai, and it in turn bothered him that he hadn't the foggiest idea what it could be. "I don't know. I guess... What good is peace if you don't know what to do with it, you know?"

Jace laughed, brow wrinkling with intrigue. "Wait, are _you_ seriously telling _me_ to chill and have a good time? Since when did you know how to have fun?" The uncomfortable aversion of Alec's eyes were all the answer he needed, bringing Jace to roll his own. "Ah. Right. You two aren't bored of each other yet?"

Ignoring Jace's tease, Alec took to unwrapping his hands. "Well... Maybe that's it? You've got the time now, maybe you should... You know..."

Jace's growing irritation showed in the jerking manner he removed his own wraps. "Yeah, I don't think—"

"They're here! They're here!"

Both combatants turned to look in the direction of the voice. "Izzy?" Jace turned a questioning look to Alec, but his parabatai had already began running off.

"What? Already?" Alec didn't seem pleased, exactly, but he was certainly interested in the development.

Not wanting to get left any more behind than he already was, Jace hurried after them, following them out into the Institute's main chamber. "Hold up! _Who_ 's here?"

Clary was already standing at the chamber's balcony, turning to greet her friends with a smile and a light laugh. "You don't remember?" she chided. "The briefing yesterday?"

Jace frowned, his head shaking slightly as he recalled the briefing. "...Right. Yeah, I remember..." he murmured. The prior day's events came into focus, as though the morning's traces of sleep-moistened eyes were just now clearing away. A Clave envoy was arriving from Idris. Little had been shared regarding the visit's purpose, but the Clave had ordered the Institute prepare two neighboring rooms for occupation. That narrowed the possibilities down significantly, but the order's peculiar specificity piqued nearly everyone's curiosity. "Wasn't that supposed to be tomorrow?"

Izzy shrugged. "Apparently the new recruits got cleared pretty quickly."

Clary's own line of questioning reassured Jace - he wasn't the only one running behind. "So, they confirmed it? We're getting new hunters?"

Alec scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "What else could it be? I just want to know why they're being so secretive about it."

When at last the doors to the Institute opened, the entities who entered caught all four of them off-guard. In place of the usual Clave entourage was but a single woman, the intensity of her bright, blue eyes an unsettling trait beside the somehow rigid and empty nature of her smile. Beside her were two others - presumably the suspected transfers, but where they'd expected new comrades perhaps a few years older or younger than themselves they were instead presented with children. Twins, in fact, wholly identical in nearly every way. The only exception to this was in the way they wore their hair: both sported short hair with a slightly longer length down the center, tied into stout pony tails, but one had their pony tail offset slightly to the right while the other wore theirs offset to the left. It would have been a cute little girl's style, had they both been on the same head - as it was, it simply looked... odd.

The Clave representative walked them in, each holding one of her hands, both silent and half-hiding behind the tall, refined woman. "Alec Lightwood?"

The call rustled Alec out of his momentary stun. Lifting a hand as he jogged his way down the stairs and towards the trio, he called back. "Yeah, that's me."

The woman nodded her head as she continued her approach. "Liandra Thistlebrook." Despite her brief introduction, she held on to the children's hands, apparently having no interest in shaking Alec's.

Instead, Alec's eyes fell to the children. Putting forth his best, professional effort, a smile drew across his lips despite the bewildered look in his eyes. "These... are the transfers... ?"

If she were put off by his manner, Liandra didn't show it, her placid expression frozen in place upon her features. "Yes," she replied, her voice oddly cheery. Looking down to the children, she released their hands to gently usher them forward. "Go on, it's alright. Introduce yourselves," she encouraged, though Alec couldn't help but detect a degree of authority in the remarks.

Despite their caretaker's request, the children simply huddled close to her (or rather, to each other) and warily eyed Alec. It was an unnerving experience to say the least, having four little eyes glued upon him with not the foggiest hint of what thoughts curried about within. It distantly reminded him of the day he met Madzie, except that even she had _some_ degree of... mental presence? Warmth. As he'd done with her, Alec tried extending the olive branch, holding his hand out to whichever of the pair braved the distance first. "I'm Alec. It's nice to meet you," he spoke, trying his best to keep his voice soft and gentle.

The pair did little more than continue to stare at him, their eyes glued to his own - they didn't even appear to notice Alec's friends walking up behind him, nor the shuffling of the Institute's intrigued hunters, nor the hushed whispers circling the air. Growing hesitant, Alec looked them over once more, and found that they'd taken to holding hands. _Are they afraid?_

Apparently, Liandra quickly tired of waiting. "My apologies, Mr. Lightwood." As he stood, Alec's lips parted to dissuade the formal address, but she was already continuing on before he could. "We've had difficulty getting them to interact with others. We believe it to be the result of severe trauma of some sort."

The most Alec managed to reply, still somewhat confused by it all, was a simple, "Oh."

She moved her hand to lay upon the shoulder of the child to her right, looking down as she introduced them. "This here is Jimmy..." Her other hand moved to the other child's shoulder, her gaze shifting in turn. "...and this is Naia."

Jace smirked. "Gemini."

It was a wholly unremarkable insight, but that didn't appear to matter to the twins. For the first time since their arrival, their eyes flickered away from Alec and lifted to Jace. The look was so sudden, so _choreographed_ , it startled all but their attendant. Even stranger, however, was the subtle curl of their mouths, the corners lifting into tiny smiles, slight though they were.

"...Indeed," Liandra murmured, an expression at last manifesting upon her features as she eyed the children - one of distinct interest. Before anyone could ask any questions, she returned her attentions to Alec, catching him off-guard with her rush through to the next topic. "They are in need of a home, and the Clave has determined this to be the best place for them. I will be overseeing their transition."

Before she could stop herself, Izzy scoffed. "Isn't that a bit below your pay grade?"

Liandra hardly missed a beat - true as the point was, she'd probably anticipated the question. "Like I said, we are concerned for their mental states. I will be working closely with them and monitoring their training. Should I notice any residual or worsening effects, it is my charge to address the situation as needed." The next question was easy enough to guess - she looked back at Alec to answer it before he'd even thought to ask. "I assure you, my responsibilities begin and end with Jimmy and Naia. Beyond them, this Institute remains under your direction."

"Uh... Sure," Alec murmured, his suspicions swelling with every passing moment. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it all, continuing to glance between the three of them. There were no obvious signs of overt malcontent, but he couldn't deny something definitely felt off about the trio. Ultimately, though, there wasn't much that could be done about it now - he'd have to settle for simply keeping a close eye on the three of them, a task thankfully made significantly easier by the position he held at the Institute. "Well, we should probably get you all settled in." Eying the children again, he tried for another smile, but the moment they turned their gazes from Jace to him their minuscule smiles faded away. "We... um... We can always get more acquainted later on, right?" Further silence endured between them, bringing Alec to another defeated sigh. It seemed things would have to be done through Liandra, then - he nodded to her, then turned to begin leading the way towards the living quarters. "Come on, I'll show you to your rooms."

The rest of the Institute took this as the official sign to resume their duties. Jace, Izzy, and Clary stayed behind, huddling closer and staring after them - Clary waited until they were beyond earshot to start talking again. "Okay, you both noticed, right? Something is definitely up."

Izzy's brow twisted, conflicted. "I mean... she said they were traumatized, right?" Between her tone and her expression, it was obvious even she didn't believe her own words.

Jace shrugged, arms folding before him. Now that the trio had left, his manner had slipped back into his usual stoic, stand-offish self. "They're kids. _All_ kids are weird."

Izzy grinned, then threw a playful punch to his arm. "What? They seemed to like you!"

An eyebrow rose, Jace turning an incredulous look upon his sister. "That's a good thing? I'm not exactly a stellar role model." He nodded in the direction of the living quarters. "There's a reason Alec and Magnus end up with all the brats."

Both girls shared a light chuckle at this. "Even still," Clary sighed, turning to look where Alec and Liandra had walked off.

_You'll protect them, right?_

Jace started, face snapping over to Clary. "...What?"

Confusion furrowed her brow - Jace looked... frightened? "...We'll protect them, _right_?" she repeated, her concern shifting from the twins to Jace.

He shifted uncomfortably, quickly looking away and replying, "Y-Yeah, of course." He could feel another slew of questioning upon the girls' tongues - before he could get caught up in it, he walked off, desperate to find something to do to occupy his mind. "Come on, we should get back to work. Alec's lined up a mission for us tonight."


	2. Bad Apple

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lNZ_Rnr7Jc&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU&index=2)\--]

_Please, please, friend of mine, always be here_

Lights flashed throughout The Garden, showering the crowd in brilliant, multi-colored light.

_Please, please, friend of mine, teach me not to fear_

Everyone in attendance sang alongside their beloved idol, their voices so loud the electric, upbeat music had to struggle to maintain acoustic dominance over the venue.

_When the shadows fall, let me never run away_

A single girl bounced about upon the stage, a mic in one hand while the other waved about, swinging her eclectic assortment of cat-themed accessories about and helping her strike a myriad of wild poses.

_And when the sun returns let me trust in you always_

MiMi-Chan's segment ran a full two hours, an energetic feat her rivals envied given how much she danced and how little she paused. No one could believe her overnight success - JSTAR Productions picked her up just a few months ago, seemingly out of nowhere, and rumors held that the sudden crowds she drew saved them from prior financial woes.

The attention unsettled more than a few, however, not the least of whom waited anxiously in the young star's dressing room. Hands squeezing each other so tight their knuckles turned white, leg shaking so rapidly it felt close to drilling through the floor, the hooded stranger struggled to ignore the quiet, simple clock ticking away upon the wall. The sounds of the concert still reached this room, but were too dampened to give any concrete idea of how far through the setlist MiMi-Chan had performed - how much still remained.

The first swell in cheers teased the end of this Hell - a skipped heartbeat preceded a pitching of the stomach as the realization set in that an encore number had been arranged.

_It'll be over soon, at least. Not much longer. She only does one encore, right?_

The final minutes of the concert felt like the longest, droning on and on like a nightmare that just wouldn't end. When the mind felt it might very well go mad, at last the second roar of the crowd exploded. A tense few seconds followed - was this finally it? Had the concert at last drawn to an end? The hooded stranger hung upon the distant sounds, searching desperately for the slightest sign of music, pleading it would never come.

The door swung open. The paranoid visitor jumped from their seat, spinning around in the dark room to spot the intruder.

"Ahh, arigatou, arigatou~! MiMi-Chan will be quick - I promise!!!"

As soon as MiMi-Chan shut the door, the figure collided into her, arms coiling tightly around her torso and face buried into the crook of her neck.

The idol giggled, offering not the slightest resistance. "Ohayo, LiLi-chan~! I missed you, too!"

The visitor reluctantly loosed her arms, allowing MiMi-Chan to reach over and flick on the lights. "I hate these concerts," she muttered, a single somber eye staring up at the idol - the left eye remained hidden behind long, thick strands of dark hair.

"I know, I know," MiMi-Chan replied, dropping the heightened pitch and overplayed chirp of her voice. "I'm sorry to worry you, Malina. Really, I am."

Malina sighed, shaking her head and turning around to find the room's table. "I just... Mitomi, if someone found out..." She slid her backpack from her shoulder, dropping the heavy thing upon the table.

Mitomi followed, her gait far more relaxed than her friend's, pulling out and collapsing into a chair. "Even if they did, what could they do? The Osaka pack claim me as one of their own. They wouldn't be able to do anything without breaking the Accords - you  _know_  this."

Malina frowned, unfastening and reaching into her backpack. "And  _you_  know some of them _just_ finished flirting war over less." She shook her head, her gaze wandering to look over her friend. "You're... managing well... ?"

At that, the idol hesitated. She appeared to struggle with her words, then ultimately decided words wouldn't be enough. Reaching up with one of her gloved hands, she delicately felt the area around her right eye, eventually finding and tucking her fingertip beneath the edge of a thin, silicone cosmetic. The sheet covered nearly a quarter of her face, fully circling her eye, blended to perfection with a creative and expert application of makeup. Once removed, she revealed a pattern of dark scales all but filling the area her mask had hidden away.

Malina gasped, her eyes widening. " _Mitomi_!!!" she cried, hand suddenly wrenching out of her backpack, clutching a packaged syringe. Without a moment's hesitation, she tore open the medical packet, the syringe dropping onto the table beside a small vial. Her hands scrambled to frantically stab the syringe through the vial's rubber stopper and draw out the crimson concoction within. "Are you insane?! How long has it been since your last dose?"

Mitomi pouted, guiltily looking away. Though she sported an obvious contact to give herself a cat-like left eye, upon closer inspection it didn't match her right eye. Firstly, the right eye appeared far more real. Secondly, even without the context of the surrounding scales, the right eye looked  _distinctly_  reptilian in nature, its pupil reminiscent of a thin, curled fang while the contact's pupil was straight and pointed at both the top and bottom. "...It makes me queasy," she admitted, still refusing to meet Malina's gaze.

A stray hand brushed Mitomi's pastel curls aside. No further warning preceded the sudden, sharp stab of the syringe into her neck - but that pain paled beside the sear that soon raced through her veins. A half-cry escaped her before she clapped a hand over mouth, eyes clenched tight and watering in a desperate attempt to remain silent.

It was just a second too late. A knock rapped against her door, followed by the stern call of a concerned, male voice. "MiMi-san? Daijobu?"

She squirmed in her seat, wriggling her pain out of her system until Malina had at last finished her injection. At that moment, and not a second sooner, she released her mouth with a relieved gasp, then twisted in her chair to quickly call out, "H-Hai, Tashizaku-san! Daijobu!!!"

Malina remained tense through this brief exchange, staring warily at the door until she was certain Mitomi's guard was satisfied, ready to dive to the nearest hiding spot at the first sign she'd been discovered. After an anxious stretch of silence, both girls finally relaxed. With a tired murmur, Mitomi slumped wearily in her chair. "Thank you, LiLi-chan..." Knowing how much her friend leaned upon her cheer, she put on a smile and lifted her face, though the strain of her voice betrayed the effort it took her to display such happiness. "I don't know what I'd do without you!"

Malina grew somber, her brow furrowing with her own breed of pain. "Of course," she breathed. "You're my—"

Before she could finish, Mitomi silenced her with a wad of folded cash pressed against her lips. "Don't say it," she interrupted, still wearing her smile despite the tremble in her voice. With a subtle nod towards the door, she whispered, "No risks, mm?"

Malina swallowed her words with a nod, but took the cash and handed it back to Mitomi. "Even still, I can't take this."

"You must," Mitomi insisted, wrapping her hands around Malina's and pushing it back against her friend's chest. She stood up as she did - already, the medicine was taking effect, the scales around her eye fading into flesh and the slit of her eye rounding into a normal pupil circled in a yellow iris. "You need it to help the others. I told you - my agent doesn't care! Who's he to watch how I spend my personal fun money?"

Her friend's grin didn't provide much comfort. Still, Malina knew Mitomi well enough to know there'd be no further debating the matter. "...'Fun money,' huh? That's one way to call it, I guess." As she tucked the money in her back pocket, she watched Mitomi take her bag to a corner of the room, where she knelt beside a small, key-coded chest. Though Mitomi had seemingly easily hid her corruptions into the characterization of her idol image, Malina couldn't even imagine doing the same, instead doing everything she could to remain hidden, unknown, worthless - it was the best way she knew to slip by The Clave's insistent hounds unnoticed.

As far as she claimed, anyway. Mitomi had pointed out on a number of occasions that looting shipments of The Clave's coveted antidote didn't exactly aid her efforts.

The pair had so much to talk about, but shouting just outside Mitomi's door cut Malina's visit short.

"Hey! You're not allowed back here!"

"You can see me, huh? Guess the rumors about JSTAR hiring wolves are true, then!"

Malina grit her teeth, then looked to Mitomi with full-on panic.

"Quick!" Mitomi cried in a hush, tossing Malina back her bag and kicking her chest behind the veil of her hanging costumes. Swift to her feet, she grabbed the chair and ran to another side of the room, lining herself up below a ceiling vent. "It sounds like he's still down the hall... You don't have much time!"

"Back off, Shadowhunter. We've done nothing to warrant you meddling in our business affairs!"

"Relax, Fido. I'm just here to visit MiMi-chan! I'm a big fan, you know!"

As she climbed onto the chair, Malina grabbed Mitomi's shoulder, gripping it tight. "Come with me. I can get you out of here! You'll be way safer away from all this Downworlder bullshit!"

Mitomi repaid the words with a tight hug and a soft whisper. "What's the point if we can't embrace life to the fullest?" She moved away just enough to cup her friend's face, beaming up with a teary gaze. Her other hand slipped her fingers in Malina's hair and drew it behind her ear, at last revealing a reptilian left eye within the scar of a freshly-drawn, upside-down rune. "Father may have distorted us, but... we can't allow that fact to destroy Mother's dream. Neither he nor the Clave can force us to be afraid of who we are."

"VIP line's that way, asshole. Go wait with everyone else if you're so damn eager to meet a little girl!"

"Come on. A big guy like me, standing in that crowd? How would that look? Not too great for business, I'll promise you that!"

Malina trembled, one hand hanging from the edge of the vent. She, too, reached out to cup her friend's face, completing the circle. As the pair gazed deeply into each other's eyes, she shakily whispered, "Where thou diest, will I die..."

Mitomi choked the tears back from her smile, finishing in kind, "...and there will I be buried."

A loud slam shook the room as the hallway confrontation worsened. "M-MiMi-san! Take cover!!!"

It stole a moment of their attentions, but just as quickly Malina hoisted herself into the vent while Mitomi threw all of her strength into boosting her up. The very instant Malina's feet disappeared into the darkness above, Mitomi yanked the vent's grate shut - not a second later, the door burst open, a pair of men tumbling onto the floor. Mitomi spun around and released a shrill, "Eeeeeeek!!!" Hidden inside the vent, Malina marveled at how easily Mitomi had slipped back into character, the high pitch and youthful chirp returning to her voice. "T-T-Tashizaku-san! What's happening~?!"

Mitomi was stalling, playing the naive and unsuspecting child in order to buy Malina time. As much as it pained her to leave her friend's side, Malina dared not squander that precious gift. After all, when it came to tracking Blights, Shadowhunters were rarely sent in alone...

* * *

A heavy, driving beat greeted the Shadowhunters as they arrived at The BaSin, Brooklyn's newest nightclub. Though it'd quickly risen to one of the Downworlders' most popular hangouts, it was far from exclusive to demonfolk, attracting a wide array of nightly vagabonds, deviants, and outright miscreants. Almost immediately, a stray dancer bumped past them, his high blatant in his loose, stumbling movements, aloof manner, and bloodshot eyes. Clary had a mind to shove him away from them, but Alec caught her arm before she could. "We don't belong here." Pausing to catch his siblings' attentions, he urged them all, "Lets not stir up any more attention than we already have. Where's—?"

The delicate trace down the back of his neck spun his gaze around. A slender hand had slipped out from the claustrophobic crowd, collapsing into a tender cup of his face. Delicate but certain lips swallowed any chance of protest. The kiss both frustrated and calmed him, his cheeks taking on a flush thankfully imperceptible in the club's wild, pulsating lights. As the kiss completed, he sighed, knowing even before he looked that he'd find a pair of smug, feline eyes gleaming up at him. "Magnus..."

The Warlock smirked, then looked beyond his lover to find the others. "Welcome," he greeted with a nod, elegant and poised as usual. His hand dropped to find Alec's, the rest of his form expertly turning on a swift, fluid motion to begin leading the group through the sea of twisting, girating bodies. "This way. The balcony is much sparser, _far_  better for conversation!"

They kept their questions to themselves for the time being, knowing Magnus was unlikely to hear them anyway over the loud thrum of the music. Of the four of them, Izzy alone took delight in the establishment, eager eyes flickering from patron to drunk patron. If things went her way, she'd steal more than a few dances with the unsuspecting crowd, and perhaps even earn herself a drink or three.

True to Magnus' assurances, the upper level proved much more subdued, the sounds of the DJ's spinning and the dance floor before him muted by the thick, velveteen hubs lining the walls. Each cluster featured a continuous couch surrounding a small table - some larger than others, they looked like they could seat anywhere between six and ten occupants. Most of the clubbers up here were engaged in various exchanges, some more frivolous and others more... _intimate_... A particularly _heated_  trio inspired a light nudge to Alec's arm, which he repaid to his sister with a roll of his eyes.

When at last they arrived at an empty booth, Magnus slid in first, scooting all the way to the center so the others had room to either side of him. Predictably, Alec sat to one side, followed by Izzy. Clary took his other with Jace positioning himself like a sentry between her and the rest of the club, a stray scowl delivered here and there to anyone he deemed had grown too interested in them. Magnus took light amusement in the behavior, less so when he waved the waitstaff for a round of drinks and drew further ire from the tense Shadowhunter. "I thought this was supposed to be a mission?"

Alec gifted them all with one of his rare, goofy smiles. "Don't mind him, Magnus. He's just upset he's become a father."

The Warlock's brow rose as he turned a questioning look at Clary. It got her laughing and quickly shaking her head, while Jace glared at Alec before turning his attentions to Magnus. "The Clave shipped over a pair of kids," he explained, swiftly putting Magnus' suspicions to rest. "Twins, maybe six or seven years old. Sounds like something happened to them, but we don't know much just yet - they're both real quiet, and the rep overseeing their transition is being tight-lipped about it all."

The topic made Clary grow concerned again, leaning her hand upon her fist as she met Jace's eyes. She wasn't quite as bothered as he was about it all, but she certainly shared at least some of his opinions on the matter. "They seem real reclusive," she commented. "They hardly even _looked_ at anyone but Jace. It's super odd!"

Their drinks arrived not a moment too late, Magnus quickly bringing his to his lips with widened eyes. "Must be, if they've taking a liking to Jace."

Before Jace could retaliate, Izzy quickly reached over and smacked Magnus' arm with the back of her hand. "Speaking  _of,_ " she grinned, "how's little Madzie? Is she adjusting well?"

Despite everything else, Magnus couldn't help but smile. "Oh, yes, she's doing much better now! She's beginning to exhibit a heightened control over her powers. I think she'll be ready to move on to some more basic spells and techniques soon!" With a grin and small wink at Clary, he added before taking another sip of his martini, "Have to make sure she doesn't accidentally flip all the furniture again."

"Ugh,  _thank_ you!" Clary exclaimed with overplayed exasperation. "Do you know how long it took me to sort and fold all my clothes back into my dresser? I swear, the Institute must have thought I'd been kidnapped or something!"

They all shared a good chuckle over the memory - even Jace couldn't suppress a small smile over it before returning to surveying the club. The light-hearted moment was a rare one, for Alec especially. Usually when the group met with Magnus, someone was in trouble, or something was threatening New York, or the Clave was demanding more reasons to excuse Magnus' presence in and around the Institute. Seeing them all together and happy like this, with Magnus proudly beaming over their dear Madzie, filled him with a sense of peace,  _pride_ even, and...

...fear... ?

He blinked in hesitation, and after a moment of closer examination of his feelings realized he wasn't afraid,  _Jace_ was. Confused, he looked up to his parabatai, bewildered by their shared connection. He found his brother staring down at the stage, transfixed by the DJ. Had he not been so perplexed by the vibes he was picking up from Jace, he might have made a joke about it - as it was, he just shifted his hand to tap Magnus' leg under the table, then nodded to Jace once he'd retrieved his boyfriend's attentions.

Magnus glanced between Alec, then Jace, then sobered once he realized what Jace was staring at. "Ah, yes," he murmured, settling back into his chair and placing his drink down upon the table. " _Him_..." His shifting mood brought Clary and Izzy to investigate what had caused it, soon finding the man in question.

At first glance, he seemed innocuous enough, consumed with the music he spun upon his tables and the crowd partying before him. While one hand worked his tables, the other held half of his headphones to his ear, his head bobbing with the beat his tunes laid out for the dancers' delight. Occasionally, he'd shift side-to-side between the two tables before him, retrieving some other disc or adjusting a level or monitoring his outputs, and when he did the three long dreadlocks hanging from the back of his head would sway, momentarily dipping beyond the silhouette of his body just enough to betray their presence. It was in those slight, fleeting moments that the group found a peculiarity that seeded further intrigue, questions, alarms: his dreadlocks appeared to  _glint_  in the club's sweeping lights, as if they were made not from hair but rather sported some kind of hardened, slick surface.

"...hair clips?" Alec asked, their seating arrangement preventing him from seeing much of the DJ's finer details.

"No," Jace muttered with a shake of his head. "It spans the full length."

"Maybe they're falls?" Clary suggested. Looking to Izzy and Magnus for backup, she explained, "Those are really popular in certain clubbing circles, right?"

Izzy shook her head next, the pit of her stomach sinking. "They don't look familiar to you, Clary?" Turning away from the DJ, she sought her friend's puzzled face, then finally spelled it out. "...Those are Ravener tendrils."

She nearly spilled her drink from placing it down so suddenly. " _What_? How is that even possible?" For the answer, she turned to Magnus. "Is he a Warlock?"

Magnus scoffed at the suggestion, but he had to admit it wasn't an entirely unreasonable presumption. "He calls himself Cyd. No one knows his surname - BaSin's ownership is hiring him under his stage name, DJ Dredd." Frowning, he moved to take another sip of his martini. "Personally, I prefer to conduct more  _thorough_ inspections of my staff, but what do  _I_ know of running a nightclub?" It took Alec's gentle squeeze of his leg to calm him down, his free hand finding Alec's to thank him for the comfort. "He started performing here a few weeks ago. There haven't been any problems at all with him, but..." His head turned to regard the dancers below, fraught with worry. "...This place attracts a hefty Mundane crowd, as you can clearly see for yourselves. If nothing else, I think it'd be wise for him to be on your radar, in case something...  _unfortunate_... occurs."

For once, Jace regarded Magnus with not a single sign of aggression. "I see. So, this is a scouting mission? See what we can find out about the guy?"

The Warlock offered an apologetic smile. "I tried to convince the owner to look into it, but he  _insists_ there's nothing to worry about." He shrugged, then took to idly fiddling with his drink. "Maybe he's right, but I don't think that's a gamble we can afford to take."

Izzy reached over to lay her hand upon his arm, offering a winning smile. "We understand, Magnus. We'll take care of it." Retracting her hand, she turned and began to slide out of their booth, eager to go begin working her charms on the crowd below. "You leave it to Alec and us, and focus on Madzie. We'll make sure—"

Suddenly, a waitress ran into her, immediately apologizing while her panicked eyes remained glued to the drink in her hands, making sure she hadn't spilled a drop. Once satisfied, she sighed with relief, then turned to find Izzy, but the confused look drawn across her features revealed she was but a sightless Mundane.

Magnus swept in to resolve the situation. "Don't worry about it," he assured, lifting a hand to negligently wave the matter aside. "May I help you?"

The waitress remained befuddled, but meekly nodded her head. "Y-Yes, um..." Finally, she seemed to regain her posture, then leaned forward to place the drink upon their table. "He says... Um..." She frowned as she stood up, a hand lifting to pinch the bridge of her nose in thought. " _Quia... pax... fratribus_?" She looked up at Magnus, unable to see the others' stunned stares.

Magnus stiffened, but kept it hidden from her, offering a nod and a smile as he lifted his drink to her. "Thank you, my dear."

They waited until she'd retreated back into the thrum of the club, then Clary turned a frown to the others. "For those of us who  _didn't_ grow up on Latin... ?"

"Loosely, 'peace for my brethren'," Izzy translated, slowly lowering back onto the couch.

Clary stared at the drink a moment, then warily looked to Magnus. "So... maybe he really _is_ a Warlock... ?"

Magnus shook his head, staring down at where Cyd was finishing his set. "Trust me, there isn't a magical bone in his body. In any case..." He leaned back into his seat and returned to his martini - it and Alec were the only things keeping his stress in check. "...that drink isn't for me." To explain his meaning, he tilted his head towards Jace with a raised brow.

Sure enough, as the four of them checked the DJ they confirmed Magnus' assertion. Apparently, Cyd had noticed their presence, though when or how wasn't quite clear. Periodically, he'd begun to glance up at them - or rather, up at _Jace_ , and every time he caught Jace's gaze he smirked, the rest of them going completely ignored. Were their suspicions of the man any less dire, they might have exchanged a joke or two about it. As it was, the odd gesture unnerved them, Jace warily eyeing the drink. "...It's got to be drugged or something."

"We're starting to make an awful lot of assumptions, aren't we?" Izzy pointed out with a frown. "Maybe the guy's just used to people judging him, and is trying to extend an olive branch or something?"

"This probably isn't the best way to do it," Alec remarked, nodding at the drink.

"Maybe, but... he  _did_  send it with a plea for peace, right?" Clary sounded like she didn't quite believe her own words.

"It's not an entirely unheard of gesture," Magnus admitted, stirring his martini. "That said, people rarely ask for peace without some indication that there may  _not_ be."

"We're Shadowhunters in a Downworlders' den." Izzy looked from Magnus to the others, ultimately settling on Jace, who was still glancing between the drink and Cyd. "Let's just stick to what we'd agreed on - we keep tabs on him, see what we can dig up."

Alec nodded. "We can keep things civil while we gather intel." Leaning over a bit, he caught Jace's eyes, then held it with a firm, concerned stare. "Just don't let your guard down, okay? Keep him at arm's length."

The warning earned him a frown. "What makes you think I'd let him any closer?"

"He's clearly got some kind of interest in you," Alec shrugged. The smile he drew next was even rarer for him, displaying an opportunistic slyness in the young leader. "We can use that. Where better than the source to get information?"

Jace had opened his mouth to retort, but Clary interrupted. "Another night." Everyone followed her nod back down to the dance floor, a mixture of frustration and relief escaping them upon weary sighs.

"He's gone."


	3. Sanctuary

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1fNc2cU34Q&index=3&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

Alec's hands alternated between hiding his face and gripping each other, his body lightly rocking back and forth upon Magnus' couch. Izzy's hand slowly rubbed his back, careful not to further agitate her anxious brother. Jace's pacing probably didn't help matters, nor the way Gemini silently stared at them from their huddled seat in a corner of the room. Clary watched on in silence, leaning against the wall beside Gemini. Occasionally, she'd get the urge to ask a question, less experienced than the others when it came to subduing her nerves, but a warning look from Izzy or Jace always held her tongue - Alec was barely holding it together as it was, and any talk of the evening's transgressions would only worsen his lack of coping.

After what felt like hours, Madzie suddenly emerged into the room, scurrying immediately over to Alec with outstretched arms. A sigh of half-relief escaped him at the sight of her, quickly scooping her up into his lap to hold her in a tight hug. "H-Hey, kiddo," he managed, barely able to suppress the tremble of his voice, helped by the way his hug kept his face nestled into the crook of her neck, breath-denying gills be damned. "You're feeling OK?"

For her answer, he had to loosen up enough to find her face, and see her shy nod. "I'm OK," she softly squeaked. Despite that, Alec saw how scared she remained, and even before she turned to look back toward Magnus' room his stomach pitched with the same questions floating through her young mind.

A young boy emerged soon after, weakly lumbering out of the room. Covered in blood, he avoided seeking the flat's walls for support - Jace quickly ran over to provide just that, Clary kneeling beside Gemini to hold back their eager advances. The boy all but fell against Jace, a feeble breath voicing his thanks, his hands finding Jace's arms so he could hold himself up and find Alec.

"Well...?" Alec pressed, the girl in his arms the only thing keeping him anchored to the couch. "How is he?"

The boy's silvery eyes stared at him, his parted mouth struggling to find the right words.

It took conscious effort to avoid yelling or squeezing Madzie too tight. In the back of his mind, he knew he had to keep it together for her sake as much as his own. As bad as his outbursts could be, if  _she_ acted out... "Tell me," he murmured, voice strained but "calm" by most definitions of the word.

The boy's eyes furrowed with sympathy. "Alec... I'm sorry. I don't know."

"What do you mean, you 'don't know'?!" His lash startled Madzie, and earned a squeeze of his arm from Izzy. He tried as best he could to keep it contained, but everything just continued welling up, and it grew impossible to plug every leak. "You've been to the future, right? Just tell us whether or not you've seen him again!"

Jace had long since been feeling Alec's anxiety, but now it'd grown so intense  _his_ heart started racing, and he found his hands subconsciously gripping the boy beside him tighter and tighter. Despite his attempts to calm Alec down, some of his parabatai's panic spilled into his voice. "You know he can't, Alec. That's not—"

A delicate hand placed upon his chest quieted him. He looked down to the boy fraught with worry, but didn't say anything more, trusting the boy's judgement. The child looked back at Alec to attempt to explain himself further. "None of my future memories include Magnus." His words visibly agitated Alec, urging him to hurry on before he faced even more ire. " _But_ , that does not mean Magnus was not alive, nor that I will not see him tomorrow, or perhaps the day after. It's just as likely I simply haven't crossed his path yet."

Alec frowned, not entirely satisfied with the answer but at least more subdued than he'd been just a few moments prior. He loosened his hold of the girl in his arms, one hand taking to rubbing her back just as Izzy had done for him. "He's immortal. He'll live."

"Alec, you must prepare yourself for any outcome," the boy cautioned. "His magic is the source of that immortality, and between portaling all of you away and subduing Ignis he used up nearly all of it." It took a raised hand to silence another protest. "I've done what I could to reinstate those stores." He rotated his hand, indicating the fresh blood running down his spindly fingers. Turning to the girl, he offered a wide, encouraging smile. "Madzie helped - a lot! Without her, Magnus' chances would have been even more slim." The gravity of the situation returned to his voice before he continued addressing Alec, and to an extent the others. "That said, he's faced with both healing his wounds  _and_ reconnecting his channels, and he has to do that faster than he deteriorates. Madzie can help with his physical wounds, but..." His face fell. This was one of those rare moments where he felt powerless, helpless,  _useless_. He desperately wanted nothing more than to help his friends, to help Magnus, but he was at the mercy of his being. "...I don't know which me will be here tomorrow. And I don't know when Ignis will strike again."

Gemini finally piped up, unable to contain themselves any longer. "Iggy's comin' back?" They chirped in unison, sounding a bit too pleased for everyone else's liking.

The boy smiled at them despite his fearful sigh.

"Yes. He's coming back."

* * *

The morning after their fruitless scouting mission, Jace got up early, eager to hit the training room while everyone else still slept. That time of morning was the only time he found he could really find any semblance of peace and solitude anymore - even his room felt claustrophobic lately, like some weighty presence filled the corners and drowned the air with alien intelligence. It left him with little room to slow down and think, or completely shut off if he preferred. By now, the punches he threw and feints he wove came naturally to him, giving him a mindless rhythm to occupy his body without burdening his mind.

It all should have been quite simple, really.

The Institute had two young transfers, and Liandra was here to help them adjust. It didn't matter to _him_ they hadn't given a family name, or that there'd been any news of any violent attacks against Shadowhunters, or that the three of them hadn't left their rooms since the moment they arrived at the Institute. New York was about as quiet as it ever got, and the twins were just kids... Liandra and the Clave were probably just testing Alec, still not entirely pleased with his command over the Institute. Whatever they had planned would no doubt be a bother, but surely nothing they couldn't handle.

Then, there was Cyd. The guy was certainly weird in his own right, but he wasn't hurting anyone. The guy wasn't a Warlock, and nor was he a demon. A Seelie, maybe? Some weirdo with an unhealthy fashion sense. Those tails probably weren't real. Stage prosthetic, maybe. A stunt to go with his whole "DJ Dredd" image. Magnus had said it himself - it was probably nothing. They were just being cautious.

But then why would he—

"Hey. You doing alright?"

Jace spun around with a start, then dropped his fists and relaxed when he found Clary. "Hey," he replied with a small smile. He began to say something, but hesitated as he looked about the room. They were alone, but... "Yeah, I'm fine. Uh..." He looked back at her with questioning eyes.

She lightly giggled, a hand obscuring her mouth behind delicately splayed fingers. "It's fine. No one's awake yet."

Her reassurance eased his smile, and without another wasted moment he bowed in to steal a kiss, his hands lifting to cup her face.

The tiny embrace felt like an eternity, though her hands gently nudged him away after only a few seconds. "Okay, hot stuff, let me breathe," she chuckled.

"Sorry," he murmured, mildly embarrassed. "I can't help it. We hardly ever have a chance to be together like this."

Her expression softened, her face lowering. "No, no, it's my fault... I shouldn't be imposing this kind of burden on you."

As much as he wanted to agree, he simply couldn't, shaking his head and drifting a few paces back. "No, I... I get it... You're right to be wary of it." A kind of guilt ate away at him - no matter how long it'd been since his true parentage had been revealed, he couldn't escape the fact that there had been a moment in time where he hadn't  _cared_ if they were related. That distant feeling, no matter how obsolete, refused to fully release him, lurking in the corners of his consciousness and feeding his every doubt. "Especially while you're still working to build a reputation of your own, it'd be unwise to give people some other thing to gossip about."

_But it's been a year. Does anyone honestly still care?_

She smiled up at him, a small hand laying upon his arm - even that small touch alone melted away his doubt, inspiring a sense of hopeful belief. "Thank you, Jace. I'll make it up to you one day, I promise!"

His half-smile proved somewhat dazed. He didn't want to think about it anymore... He shook his head and clenched his eyes to try and concentrate. "Anyway..." By the time he opened his eyes again, some of his focus returned to him, and he folded his arms across his chest while his legs retook a more stable stance. "I'm guessing you didn't come here to talk about us?"

Clary shrugged, then moved to lean against a nearby pillar. "I was just worried about you, is all. You seem to have a lot on your mind..." She leaned over a bit, her vibrantly red locks all but glowing in the morning light filtering through the stained-glass windows. Truly, she looked every bit the Angel her blood made her out to be. "Anything I can help you with?"

Jace sighed and shook his head. "Alec thinks I'm probably just restless. It's been a long time since anything interesting's happened..." His eyes had drifted, his brow taking to a mild furrow. "...He's probably right. I think it's making me read too deep into things."

When he didn't fill the pause with further detail, she pressed, "...'things'? I'm guessing you mean Gemini and Cyd?"

He looked at her with a piqued brow, apparently surprising her with his reaction. "What, is everyone going to call them that now?"

Clary played off her confusion with a light laugh and a wave of her hand. "I just thought it was cute, is all. It's a convenient moniker, anyway."

Good enough for him. He turned and leaned against a neighboring pillar, his arms falling to hang to either side while his head laid back against the pillar's cold, stone surface. "Anyway... yeah. I don't know why I'm so consumed by it. It has nothing to do with me."

The corner of her mouth lifted, but she couldn't keep up a genuine smile. "You just... care. There's nothing wrong with that."

He scoffed. "I guess." It was evident in his tone and manner he really didn't agree, but it was as good an answer as any, certainly the best he was going to get any time soon.

"Hey, it's whatever, right?" Clary stood up, walking over to where Jace had abandoned his shirt to toss it back towards him. "Don't let it get to you." With a smirk, she added in with a jeer, "It's perfectly normal to have a heart."

At last, she got some real amusement out of him, an actual grin brightening his face as he caught his shirt. "Right. Guess my days of robotic processing are over!"

She chuckled, satisfied with the results of their conversation. "I'm gonna go find Izzy and head over to Magnus'. We're supposed to scout the neighborhood surrounding BaSin later." With a final wave as she departed, she called, "I'll catch you later, okay? Don't train too hard!"

"Yeah. Right." He waved after her, allowing himself to watch her fleeting form until the very last second, only then finally turning his attentions to the shirt in his hands.  _That girl's gonna get you in trouble, Jace._ He grinned inwardly as he pulled his shirt over his head, arms snaking their way through his sleeves. As soon as his head popped through, however, his eyes immediately fell upon two wide, curious pairs staring up at him in complete awe. "Hey!" he cried, stumbling back a bit from his surprise. Normally, he took great pride in his body, and ate up every opportunity to show it off - it came as more than a bit unsettling, however, for his audience to be a pair of children. "Uhh... Hi?" he tried, warily lowering his shirt. As he did, he realized they weren't gawking at  _him_ , exactly... Rather, they seemed transfixed by his... parabatai rune... ? Well, that was at least a _little_ better than having kids eating up his abs, he figured... In fact, this could be a great opportunity to get to know the two a little better! Holding up the left side of his shirt so they could still study the rune, he asked them, "You guys like it?"

The question appeared to confuse them, their eyes snapping up to meet his with something that resembled shock.

_Uh... Was it something I said... ?_

Just as suddenly as they'd appeared before him, they rose their right hands to point at his rune. "You have a parabatai?" they asked, their voices still uncannily synchronized.

Trying his best to get past the weirdness, Jace nodded, walking slowly towards them so they could get a better look at it. "Yeah," he replied, exuding as much warmth and welcome as he could muster. "Alec. Uh... The other guy from yesterday? The one that led you guys to your room?" Either they were having trouble remembering, or they  _really_ didn't like Alec. Maybe his words just confused them, somehow - surely, that wasn't  _sadness_ upon their faces? Searching for something to make them feel better about it, he tried, "I know he's kinda weird, but he's actually a really nice guy!"

It didn't seem to help. In fact, their demeanor appeared to worsen, their lips beginning to tremble slightly and their bodies instinctively huddling closer to each other. "Did it... hurt... ?" they asked, voices growing feeble.

The question took him aback, his face screwing up with confusion. "Did it... What? Hurt?" He blinked, forcing himself to take a moment and really consider the question before he at last tried to explain. "I mean... All runes kinda sting when you first draw them. This one's no different."

They didn't seem at all comforted by his answer, but at least they didn't look worse, so Jace took that as a personal victory. He gave them as much time as they needed to process it and think about the rune, hoping he was making some kind of headway with the pair. Finally, they spoke up again, their eyes finally leaving his rune to glance timidly at each other - Jace took it as permission to finally lower his shirt all the way. "...Ms. Thistlebrook wants to make us parabatai," they replied, voices hardly more than a soft whisper.

That befuddled Jace even more, lowering to kneel beside them and look them in the eyes. Maybe he'd misheard them? "What? Liandra? What are you talking about?"

"That's quite enough."

The crisp voice drew all three attentions - Jace immediately stood back up, subconsciously adjusting to stand between Liandra and the twins. Behind him, the twins had likewise withdrawn behind Jace, each one staring warily out at her around his legs.

She looked down at them, expression wholly unreadable, then slowly smiled. "Let's not bother him, hm? Jace has a lot of work to do."

Jace felt like he should say something, do something... but what? Before he could decide, the twins were already stepping out from behind him, obediently making their way towards Liandra's outstretched hands. "Yes, Ms. Thistlebrook." One small hand took each of Liandra's before they turned around and bowed. "We're sorry, Mr. Herondale."

"N-No, it's alright," Jace finally spoke up, waving his hand. After looking between them and Liandra, he finally addressed Liandra, his concern ripe in his tone. "Hey, you know you can't  _force_ them to bond, right? That's not how this works!"

"Pay them no mind, Mr. Herondale." The non-answer infuriated him, but she didn't give him a chance to retort. "You have my word I will keep their best interests in mind. They are, after all, my sole responsibility."

He grit his teeth, barely suppressing a growl. "You're really gonna play  _that_ card, huh? You can't just—"

"Good day, Mr. Herondale."

Before he knew it, the three were departing, and just like that he felt like he was right back to square one with his mood - perhaps even further back than that. Well, at the very least, he had something to work off of now... Turning around, he abandoned the remainder of his training regimen, intent on seeking out Alec. Liandra had assured them Alec's authority remained intact, and Jace felt it was high time his parabatai put it to use.


	4. Pokinoi

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nx2q3KfYzwg&index=4&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

They were only a few hours in, and already the day was shaping up to be a pleasant one. The clear sky allowed the sun to shine its warmth upon the girls' faces as they strolled the streets of New York, taking full advantage of their time to toss light banter and gossip between each other. With the relative calm throughout the demon world, the anxiety surrounding Clary since beginning her life as a Shadowhunter had waned, making way for kinder thoughts and emotions. Not the least of these was a seemingly fairytale romance that finally seemed to have the time and space to fully bloom without the fear of death and hardship to hold them back.

Izzy's fortune proved much the same, her work as a Shadowhunter at last stabilized enough that she found spare time to truly take an inward look at herself and decipher just what it was she wanted out of this life, what fulfilled her and inspired her to do and be greater. To this end, Alec used his role as Head of the New York Institute to create a new position especially for her: Ambassador to the Downworld. In the aftermath of Valentine's cruel pursuits, it rapidly grew clearer than ever before that Downworlders needed a voice among the Shadowhunters, someone familiar with their unique lives and sympathetic to their individualized plights. Her role was a pilot program of sorts - if her efforts proved successful in addressing the Downworlders' concerns, other Institutes all across the world were to adopt the role into their own leadership, ultimately providing the Downworlders with a far more significant influence upon Shadowhunter policies and enforcement than they'd known before. Of course, many felt that this would still leave them quite a long ways from true equality, but it was certainly a step in the right direction at least.

It had of course been rather rocky at first, especially when it came to Meliorn and Raphael, but eventually Izzy worked through any lingering resentments and established working relationships with all of the local Downworlder leaders. She'd even managed to get in touch with the local Mermaid grotto, a feat that honestly impressed Clary. "I'm really, really glad the Downworlders have you vouching for them," she remarked for perhaps the hundredth time. "I know I say it a lot, but you can really see the difference, you know?"

At last, the girls turned off of Delancey Street and began heading toward East Village - somewhere along here was Café au Coeur, the place Magnus instructed them to meet him. To be perfectly honest, it sounded pompous and overpriced, but they weren't meeting there for the coffee. It happened to be right across the street from The BaSin, the pair of them just a few blocks away from Magnus' long-since closed Pandemonium. Apparently, the area was quite popular among the Downworlders, which made Izzy all the more bewildered by her apparent ignorance for this particular block. "You'd think  _some_ one would have mentioned the place," she muttered, nodding her head in the cafe's direction as it finally came into view.

"To be fair, I can't really picture any of the current leaders hanging out around here, especially not during the day when you're typically working." Clary reached out and grabbed the door for her friend. "You shouldn't take it so hard on yourself!"

Izzy sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "I guess..."

As they looked up to take in the small cafe, Izzy's mood visibly brightened by the sight of Magnus perched at a small table near the decorated windows, a small cappuccino in hand. Like they'd suspected, the establishment was absolutely exquisitely furnished, with the lights dimmed and sheer curtains filtering the sun's otherwise overbearing light. Candles stood in the centers of every table, though only a few were lit - most of the tables were still empty, as Izzy and Clary brought the cafe's total occupation to an impressive seven, the two waitstaff included. In short, Magnus fit in absolutely  _perfectly_ in the scene, and thus had to wave the girls over to encourage them from their mild stupor.

"Ah, there you are!" he greeted with a smile, setting his cappuccino down beside the paper he'd been reading -  _Osaka Pop Idol MiMi-Chan Delivers Exhilarating Spectacle to Sold-Out Madison Garden_. "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't make it." He directed them to each of the chairs waiting patiently around his table, waiting until after they'd taken their seats before sitting back down himself.

"Sorry," Clary apologized before throwing a smirk at Izzy. " _Some_ one had trouble picking which shoes to wear with her dress."

"Can you  _blame_ me?" Izzy asked with faux offense. "Just look at this place!"

She had a point. Despite how comfortable the three of them were with each other, they still spoke with hushed voices, lest they disturb the cafe's other two patrons. Even Magnus kept his usually grandiose manner to a subdued grace, such was the air of their posh surroundings. Where he might have laughed in the face of the establishment's absurd flamboyance, he instead kept himself to a restrained smile, nodding towards the two waitstaff currently occupying themselves with the other guests. "Yes, I doubt people come here for the coffee." He said this with widened eyes that clearly communicated just what he thought of the shop's business model and coffee alike.

Indeed, the waiter and waitress were both just as lovely as the cafe itself. Each could have stepped down from one of the oil paintings dressing the walls, the captured figures staring out as if in jealousy of their dark, sun-kissed skin and lush, silver hair. The pair seemed to know as much, each sitting at their customers' tables as much to engage in light, flirtatious conversation as to take their orders. Even at a distance, they took the girls' breaths away, Izzy repurposing her dropped jaw to lean over and whisper to Magnus, "Do I need to warn Alec?"

Magnus scoffed and dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand. "Please. I could portal across the world and fetch a cup of _truly_  Parisian coffee if I wished." Glancing through the curtains as he took a sip of his cappuccino, he explained, "We're only here because I frankly look out of place at the Lava Java down the street, and because Mar is apparently rather fond of The BaSin and its... _colorful_  clientele.

Before Clary could ask which star-kissed masterpiece "Mar" was, a bright-eyed, beaming face spotted them, capturing the girls' stares like Narcissus in a mirror. Before they could decide whether or not they enjoyed his apparent glee, the waiter came hurrying up to them, his expression far too loud for his refined, black-and-white uniform and silent glide through the cafe towards their table. "Ah, Monsieur Bane!" he exclaimed in a hush, practically collapsing into a chair he'd deftly summoned to their table outside of their notice. "These are the girls? _Bonjour, mesdemoiselles_!"

His proximity clearly made Magnus uncomfortable, the Warlock devoting a free hand to delicately remove the waiter's hand from around his shoulders. "Yes, Mar," he replied with hardly managed politeness. Nodding his head to each of them in kind, he somewhat stiffly continued, "It is my pleasure to introduce you to Miss Clarissa Fray and Miss Isabelle Lightwood."

"Ohh~!" the waiter practically squealed, his green eyes alight with excitement. "Such lovely names, for such _fleurs exquises_!" He turned something of a dreamy smile to Magnus and sighed. "You have such wonderful taste, _mon fléau_!"

Despite his growing irritation, Magnus maintained a tight and civil smile. "Unfortunately, _Alexander_  couldn't make it."

Mar apparently either missed the point or didn't care to mind the thinly-veiled warning. "Ah, a shame... My mind has no choice but to continue imagining what kind of _handsome man_  has seized _my dream_!"

Clary couldn't quite tell whether Magnus preferred Mar fantasizing about him or Alec - neither appeared to sit well with the Warlock, so she slipped in for a fumbling attempt at moving Mar along to the next subject. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mar!" she greeted with a hand extended for an eager shake.

He marveled at her, a charmingly devious glint overtaking his eyes as he daintily lifted her hand to his lips. "Oh no no, the pleasure is mine, _ma cherie_!" Careful to leave neither maiden unattended, he took Izzy's hand next, swiftly bringing both girls to a brilliant flush. "How lucky I am that Magnus would share you both with little me!"

Still captivated by Mar's intense beauty, Izzy spoke before she realized what she was saying. "Not _too_  little, I hope...?"

The question brought a grin to Mar's face, but when he opened his mouth to speak Magnus cut him off with his own redirection. "Anyway, I'm sure you two would like someing to drink?" The way he looked at them both made it clear that yes, they very much _did_  want drinks, and maybe some pastries and finger sandwiches as well.

"Oh! Yes!" Clary quickly replied, frantically looking about in search of a menu. "Um... um... !"

Mar reached out to catch her face in a soft cup of his hand, turning her to meet his charming smile. "Just tell me what you desire, Madame Clary, and I shall bring it to you." Tilting his head back, he made a show of studying her face while idly listing off, "Black... Americano... _un_  mocha, perhaps? With an extra shot of espresso?"

"Y-Yes, that sounds lovely," Clary sighed.

" _Merveilleux_!" he chirped, then turned to Izzy and reached out to lay his hand upon her wrist. "And for you..." he let his voice drift while his eyes made slow work of scaling everything he could see of her. With a quirked brow and a small bite of his lip, he tilted his head and purred, " _Café au lait, un croustade_ , and a small side of extra _crème_?"

" _Parfait_ ," Izzy breathed, still dazed and beginning to forget why they'd come here in the first place - not that she much cared at the moment.

" _Magnifique_!" Mar proclaimed, a hand landing on Magnus' shoulder as he sprung up out of his seat. Magnus quickly pushed the hand aside, but Mar hardly seemed to mind. "I'll get those right to you, _mes chers_. Be good while I'm gone, hm?" he added with a small wink, then lightly spun on his toe to prance off into the kitchen.

Magnus groaned the minute Mar disappeared behind the swinging double-doors. " _Finally_! I admire the boy's commitment to the job, but it really is a bit much!"

"It's not really all  _that_ bad, is it?" Izzy sighed, still dreamily staring after the departed Mar.

Now that he was gone, Clary was able to shake her head and clear herself of her prior fluster. "He certainly has a certain presence, doesn't he?" She looked up at Magnus, suddenly somewhat suspicious as she asked, eyes narrowed, "That the reason you asked us here, without Jace and Alec?"

He rocked his head back and forth a bit, carefully considering his words before finally answering. "I rather think neither of them would take kindly to Mar's... manner, shall we call it? The boy's like to have an insider's eye on things over at BaSin. While I'd much prefer it vice-versa, we need to befriend and interview him, not threaten him."

Finally, Izzy began surfacing from her affections, thoughtfully rapping her fingers against her cheek as her thoughts turned to her brothers. "Fair enough. Alec would probably put a volley of arrows through him on sight, and Jace doesn't play nice with 'competition'."

Magnus frowned at the mention. "That reminds me..." He lifted his cappuccino back to his lips as he turned back to Clary. "He seemed awfully amicable last night. Have you two resolved things?"

Clary sighed, her eyes shifting to gaze through the curtains to the silent club across the street. "Of course not. Things are normal enough for the most part I guess, but he still hasn't apologized to me or Simon. It's like it never happened!"

Izzy offered a half-smile, reaching out to give Clary a comforting squeeze of her shoulder. "Maybe he's...  I don't know, embarrassed about it or something? You know how we gets."

Clary couldn't help but scoff. "It's been a whole year! He needs to get over himself already and apologize!" Her brow furrowed as a somber look came over her. "Simon _still_  refuses to go anywhere near the Institute, and I honestly don't blame him."

"It's begun to bother Alec as well," Magnus remarked, his demeanor deflated by the subject. Despite wholly understanding the unique dynamic Alec shared with his parabatai, the degree to which Jace affected Alec still bothered him. Thankfully, by now it had turned more towards a sympathetic unrest than a jealous resentment, but even then it was difficult to prevent such things from affecting their relationship on  _some_ level. "He hasn't expressed anything specific, but he's told me things have felt off lately." Settling into his chair with a sigh, he stared into his cappuccino and muttered, "Whatever it is, Alec's starting to feel it, and it's putting a damper on things."

" _Bon appétit_!"

The sudden exclamation breaking the momentary depression startled all of them. No one had noticed the overly flirtatious waiter slip through the kitchen's doors and glide up to their table, his words only narrowly beating the presentation of Clary and Izzy's drinks to announce his presence. "My apologies, _mesdemoiselles_!" With everything else set upon the table, Mar slipped into his chair from earlier while he set Izzy's pastry before her, taking his sweet time so the girls could marvel his crisp uniform and intoxicating cologne. "We were all out of  _croustades_!" he lamented with a light laugh. "On the bright side, though, that means this one is as fresh as can be! I do hope it pleases  _Mademoiselles_ Isabelle?"

Her smile was already flushed. "Y-Yes, of course, Mar! I'm sure it is wonderful." Looking to Clary, she gleefully raised her coffee to her friend, then brought it to her lips to take her first sip.

Clary repeated in kind, chuckling lightly as she took a sip of her own. A rich, bold flavor seeped through her lips to glide along her tongue, a playful dance of chocolate and roast seeming to warm her very soul. The drink imparted an odd kind of comfort in its banality: her friends could be at each others' throats, the demons could be taking over the city, indeed the very world itself could be crumbling down around her, and this simple drink would still be there for her to offer a momentary reprieve. It reminded her why she loved coffee so much, and made her wonder about all the other simple things in her life that she took for granted - especially those things from when she was still a Mundane, things like school assignments and curfews and speeding tickets that she'd likely never again know.

It wasn't too dissimilar from Magnus' experience of the humble drink, one of a handful of constants that hardly changed at all across hundreds and hundreds of years. He, however, stopped taking things for granted long ago, and didn't need another lesson in the matter - he needed  _information_. "So," he replied, his eyes slightly widened from how much he was restraining himself, attempting to perform far more comfortably and casually than he actually felt. "Pardon my saying, but business appears to be rather light." Masking his own opinions of the matter with a smile, he instead postulated, "I presume word hasn't spread far beyond this particular area?"

Mar turned to him with something of a dreamy sigh, an elegant hand reaching out to boldly draw its fingertips along the side of Magnus' face - the Warlock swept the hand aside with contained ire, but it appeared to neither bother Mar nor dissuade his manner. "Ah,  _mon fléau_ , you are so charmingly perceptive! Alas, this is true. We typically only greet...  _quatre_? _Cinq_? Per day." Much to Magnus' relief, he shifted his attentions over to the girls, his other hand moving to hold Clary's face by the base of her chin. "The three of you makes today particularly _chanceux_!"

It took some work, but Clary managed to pull herself through her fascination with the exotic beauty before her and remember her purpose, their mission. "Wow," she breathed, scrounging her way up to Mar's pace. She placed her elbow upon the table and leaned forward, daring to hold his haunting, green gaze. "That's all? I'd have thought the evening crowd would  _love_ this place!"

Izzy caught on, swallowing the haze in her eyes to look at her friend with a faux pout. "Evening crowd?" By the time she looked back at Mar, she'd regained the upper-hand she was so used to having in these kinds of interactions, her lean subtly shifting to give Mar a better view. "I had no idea you stayed open that late! You work long shifts, then... ?" She trailed off, leading Mar down a particular line of thinking with an unspoken suggestion.

He appeared to take the bait, turning from Clary to curl the fingers of his other hand into the ends of Izzy's dark curls - Magnus offered a silent "thank you" to the girls for keeping Mar _occupied_. "Alas, it is true, _mon amour_." His expression moistened with longing, gazing into Izzy's eyes as if they held the key to his freedom. "I feel as though I am here all day, and all night! A songbird kept from sharing in all the world's beauty..." He paused a moment, then offered Izzy a devious smile, his hand falling from her hair to find her hand and bring it towards his lips. "But even a captured songbird will find a way to escape his cage if his desire is great enough,  _non_?"

Either Mar really was as promiscuous as he let off, or he'd been playing this very same game since the moment they set foot within the cafe. It grew more and more difficult to remember that possibility the more the play went on, and in turn harder to maintain their edge in the exchange - their only hope was to tag-team his wiles, trading his attentions back and forth like the ball in a championship tennis match. It was Clary's turn to receive, putting on a furrowed scowl and glaring through the window. "You know what I bet it is? It's that club across the street! It's that..." She seemed to hesitate, then turned intense eyes upon Mar, begging him for help. "That music guy. I think he performed last night? What do they call him?"

They didn't really know what they were expecting, but it certainly wasn't the dreamy sigh Mar released to the air as he swooned, both hands retracting from the girls to hold his face. "Oh,  _him_! Cyd's his name. Isn't he just  _délicieux_? I watch him every single night!"

In spite of himself, Magnus couldn't help but pipe up, blinking with surprise. "You do?"

Mar rolled his eyes and gave Magnus a light shove of his shoulder. "Of  _course_! How could I resist?" Pointing towards the ceiling, he clarified, "We can see from the office. The window aligns perfectly with BaSin's loft, and you can see straight through to the stage!"

Now was as good of an opportunity as they were going to get. Izzy caught his eye, wearing an expression mixed of wariness and marvel. "You've seen him, then? Those... Those  _things_ on his head..."

Magnus watched on, brow furrowing as he maintained a careful survey of Mar's manner and expression. He appeared to sober at Izzy's words, perhaps he was even... saddened by it... ?

"...what  _are_ they?"

Mar looked at her with glossy eyes, his lips parted as he sought words for something he simply couldn't express. He searched her, looking for some kind of giveaway as to what he could say that she would comprehend. At last, he gathered his strength and took a breath. " _Mon cher_ , they're—"

A loud crash burst through the cafe, followed shortly by a terrified shriek. All four of them jumped from their seats to look in the direction of the panic - the cafe's other two patrons already tore out into the street, their drinks, confectioneries, and bill forgotten without a second glance. They all quickly understood the concern as a massive, armored form crawled its way through a crumbling hole it had just punched in the wall, as evidenced by the hooked pincer slowly retracting back behind it. Even still, Mar's female coworker hardly seemed to bat an eye at it, staring it down in challenge as she slowly backed up in time with its poised approach.

"Scorpios demon!" Izzy hissed under her breath, urgently looking between Clary and Magnus.

The gig was up - protecting the Mundanes took precedent over their personal investigation. The three of them moved to face the demon, but Mar's arms threw out to either side, blocking them from approaching. " _Non, non, non_!" he scolded, head shaking and finger waggling though he kept his back to them. His manner remained calm and refined, a fact that immediately drew the trio's full suspicions - but, it seemed he'd already been expecting that. His smile frozen upon his face, he nodded towards the demon and the waitress. "She's quite beautiful when she dances," he purred lovingly.

The sudden glint of light refracting against smooth metal answered the questions upon their tongues. In a blink of an eye, the waitress now stood upon a table, her left arm hooked behind her back while the right held the demon's pincer in place at the pointed end of a brilliantly glowing rapier. The woman held this stance, tight-lipped and unwavering, despite the struggle of the creature before her. In face of this and the luminous weapon in her hand, not a shred of doubt remained: she was a Shadowhunter.

Magnus turned wary eyes upon Mar, bringing everything he'd come to learn about the young man into question. "...And you?" he asked, knowing he need not specify any more than that to convey his meaning.

Mar laughed lightly, and in answer flourished his right hand. As he did, he appeared to pull an identical weapon from thin air into his palm, the familiar, runed metal tapering to a smooth and decisive point on one end and coiling into a breathtakingly elegant guard encircling his fingers on the other. "Our tutor had them custom-made to fit our unique style," he explained, a dangerous curiosity to his tone. The way he watched his counterpart seemed far too like an emperor attending the Colosseum - too many parts interested and not enough concerned to be appropriate for a demon attack.

"We should be  _helping_!" Clary protested, moving again to head towards the demon.

Again, Mar stopped her, though this time it was with the point of his rapier to the lump of her throat, his green eyes turning upon her with a wild intensity. "I insist,  _ma cherie_." The smile he offered made him look something of a maniac. "Allow my sweet Daraiya to show you our art."

A quick succession of sharp sears announced what Mar meant by "art." As much as Clary and Izzy wished to protest, they were fascinated by the expert display, somehow at once delicate and dominating. Daraiya's footwork alone put the creature before her to shame, and though none of her strikes delivered much in the way of damage upon the demon nor were they truly meant to. The more their duel splintered on, the more it seemed she was  _playing_ with the grotesque invader, and even at this distance the girls thought they caught a look in her eye not too far from the one in Mar's.

Magnus meanwhile took the time to assess every aspect of the scene, whittling away the things they'd presumed to be true down to only those things they could  _know_ to be fact. Mar and Daraiya's familiarity with seraph blades indicated at least  _some_ familiarity with Shadowhunters - the only reason he still wasn't quite ready to apply the label outright was the total lack of runes anywhere visible upon their bodies, though for all he knew they could merely be hidden beneath their clothes. That brought him to his next fact, that the pair were for whatever reason not  _currently_ associated with the Shadowhunters. How this could be without them being de-runed or  _why_ it could be was currently beyond him, but he suspected it related in some way to Cyd, a young man Mar at the very least knew of and supposedly watched, a human-seeming person who for some reason or another thought it fashionable to sport Ravener tendrils as accessories. Of course, Magnus didn't feel particularly threatened by any of it, but nor was he comfortable with the feeling that they'd just now begun to glimpse a delicate web weaving through their  _eventful_ community.

A handful of electrified moments later, another shriek shook the cafe, though this time it was the enraged hiss of the scorpios, the tip of Daraiya's blade having suddenly found the perfect opening between its plates to slip through and pierce the vulnerable flesh beneath. The demon writhed and thrashed as its body burned away, its pincer lunging forth in a final, defiant strike. With a sneer, Daraiya flourished her blade, the flat of its side slapping against the severed end of the demon's tail to toss it unceremoniously aside.

The thing flew straight towards Mar, Magnus, Izzy, and Clary. In a practiced, fluid motion Mar confirmed that he, too, was just as skilled as the display they'd just witnessed, the pincer skewering itself upon the tip of his blade. As it collapsed into burning ashes, Mar at last turned to face them, smiling placidly at Clary and Izzy. Daraiya turned as well, though she kept her distance, a judgmental stare tearing them apart from across the now shattered cafe. "I apologize, _mesdemoiselles_. This is not the kind of service we typically offer at Café au Coeur!"

The persisted show ignited Clary's confusion into rage. " _Excuse_ me? Are you serious right now?" she yelled. "Drop the act and tell us what the  _hell_ is—"

In another flash of light, the tip of Mar's rapier had found the underside of Magnus' chin, though his smile and intense stare remained intact. "Ah-ah,  _mon cher_. I hear these weapons can cause quite the  _émoi_ in certain company." To emphasize his meaning, he tilted his head towards Magnus, the tip of his blade pressing dangerously against the Warlock's throat. "I imagine the Institute will be quite interested in this little affair. Perhaps  _mesdemoiselles_ would like to return and file a report?"

The girls looked to protest, but Magnus had raised his hands, and in the background Daraiya had lifted her rapier to en garde. "It's alright," Magnus assured them, motioning with his hands for them to calm down. Turning to Mar, he asked, "Will you at least allow me to portal them?"

Slowly, Mar turned his head towards Magnus, but never fully met his eye. At last, he slowly nodded, though he kept his blade in place - he wouldn't be giving the powerful Warlock another inch of opportunity.

Magnus pursed his lips. He really didn't enjoy performing under such lethal pressure, but it was the best he'd get. Lifting his hands, he set to work weaving the spell before him. Though the need to keep his neck perfectly still slowed the process somewhat, a pulsating, purple disc soon appeared behind the girls, and again Magnus nodded. "I'll be fine. Just report back to Alec, alright?"

They hesitated, reluctant to leave him behind, but they also caught the look in his eye - it was clear these two were wrapped up in something, and that something was likely to involve Cyd. If they were to get to the bottom of this, they needed to apprehend all three of them... and that was going to require a couple more Shadowhunters. They swallowed their protests and nodded. Clary slipped through first, while Izzy locked eyes with Mar once more. "This isn't over," she assured him.

As she stepped through and the portal collapsed behind her, Mar turned his smile to Magnus. He stepped in closer, sword carefully held in place, and sank his fingers into the Warlock's dark hair. "Ah,  _mon fléau_ , I certainly hope 'tis not..."


	5. Kismet

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7TCp9cfByc&index=5&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

Jace eventually found Alec pacing back and forth in his office, entranced by the tablet in his hands. The scene momentarily gave Jace pause, pondering his brother's state of mind, but as the urgency of the situation returned to him he reached up and rapped his knuckled against the hard rosewood of the office's door.

Startled out of his rabbit hole, Alec looked up with a blank expression, only belatedly recognizing Jace's apparent turmoil. "Jace," he greeted, waving him inside as he abandoned his tablet upon his desk. His hands held the desk's edge as he sat back against it, the slight curl of his pose and inquisitive pierce of his eyes likening him to a cat, ever attentive and ready to jump into whatever action was needed of him. He invited Jace to cut right to the chase, their unique bond removing any need for social pretenses or conversational build-up. "What's wrong?"

In addition to the usual perpetual worry, the particular curl to Jace's features betrayed the anger stewing within. "Alec, we need to investigate Liandra. Something's going on with her, and I don't like it."

Alec scoffed, his brow furrowing. "Liandra? Haven't you noticed the twins?  _That's_ who we should be investigating."

"What?" Jace stopped in his tracks, just shy of sinking into one of the office's plush chairs. "They're like... what, six or seven maybe? Kids. They're absolutely harmless." His stance shifted, a finger raising to emphasize his seriousness. "Liandra, on the other hand - she's Clave. Not just that, she's an  _Elite_. What business does she—"

Before Jace could finish, Alec reached behind him and retrieved his tablet. Expression unimpressed, but very eager to see Jace's reaction, he tapped the screen and spun it around, showing Jace the video he'd been watching on repeat for the better part of an hour.

Jace blinked, taking the tablet into his own hands as he processed what he was seeing. "Security cam footage?" he asked, though that much was self-evident from the quality and angle of the video. It showed Jimmy and Naia in the training room, the pair practicing some kind of martial arts routine. Their movements were as graceful as they were deliberate, perfectly timed with one another to where it became difficult to remember he was watching two people, not a single combatant and their reflection. After a while, he shook his head and shrugged, looking up to return the tablet. "So what? They're practicing forms - big deal."

With a cocky sigh, Alec took the tablet and without looking tapped through a series of commands, bringing up another video. "That was last night. They're at it again now - here's the live feed."

This was rapidly wearing on him, but Jace obliged, taking the tablet back to investigate. "This better have a point," he muttered, glancing down at the scene playing out upon the tablet. The very first thing he noticed ticked him off, and he nearly threw the tablet at Alec. "Angel's sake, Alec, this is _their room_!"

Alec returned the irritation - and the tablet - back at him, pushing the tablet back into Jace's view. " _Every_  room is monitored, remember? Damn it, Jace, just watch the feed!"

He had a few more choice words for Alec, but kept a lid on it for now, keeping it on faith his parabatai had a good reason for being so interested in whatever the twins were doing in their room. Still, he couldn't suppress a roll of his eyes as he looked back down at the tablet, and a sigh as he glanced about the picture in search of whatever it was Alec wanted him to see. "More forms," he grumbled, eager to unravel any reason Alec might have behind his voyeuristic interests. "Would you just spit it out already? So they like to practice in their room. What's the big—?"

Alec smirked as Jace came to a halt mid-sentence, brow furrowing with intrigue. Unable to help himself, Alec scoffed, "Sorry, I didn't catch that last part. What were you saying?"

Jace's lips pursed, trying to ignore what he was seeing. Indeed, the twins were practicing their forms again, the same forms from last night's recording. However, one would never believe that timeline, today's performance significantly worse than last night's in no small manner. Where their motions had been perfectly coordinated, now one or the other occasionally lagged behind, or misstepped, or started the wrong move before quickly correcting themselves. Indeed, they appeared to stumble through the moves, and the more the faltered the more anxious they appeared, looking to each other for guidance.

_Looking to each other._

That was normal though, right? People _always_  looked to each other when they needed support. It shouldn't look so odd on the twins - they'd almost certainly done it before. Jace must not have noticed. Still, watching the feed swiftly made him uncomfortable, a new unease brewing within him, and he handed the tablet back to Alec. "Okay, so they got worse overnight... _Dramatically_  worse. Ever consider they know they're being watched, and are faking it for your viewing pleasure?"

Alec offered a simple "Yeah," Jace's implied jab going either unnoticed or ignored. "Of course. So let's say that's the case, then." After returning the tablet to its place upon his desk, he stood up and started pacing again, hands gesticulating in the air to help him think. "They're 'just kids,' right? What would they have to hide? And why would they pretend now, but not last night?"

"I don't know!" Jace bit back. Neither of them knew why this was getting to him so bad, but nor had the patience to observe it too closely. "Maybe they didn't know until today that their room had a fucking cam in it?"

" _Enough_ with the stupid cam!" Alec's exasperation began seeping out, in part because he'd begun to feed off of Jace's anger. Keeping their emotions separated had become something of a daily ritual over the past year, but when tempers ran high it grew more difficult to maintain the divide. "Every Institute has them in  _every_ room. You know that!"

Jace found his in, turning a sharp finger to his parabatai. "More to the point,  _Liandra_ knows that! I'm telling you, Alec, something's not right with that bitch. I bet she's behind this stupid video thing, too!"

"I swear, it's like you hate every pretty blonde that walks through those doors!"

The words jarred both of them, each blinking in surprise by what Alec had blurted out. Jace frowned, his head turning slightly in suspicion, while a flustered Alec quickly looked away and folded his arms across his chest. "...Anyway. What was it you were so eager to tell me about her in the first place?" For reasons he couldn't put to words, nausea needled its way through his gut, and he wanted nothing more than to move past what had just been said and forget the whole thing entirely - even if that meant letting Jace "win" their little exchange.

Jace was all too happy to oblige, not wanting to get any closer to Alec's relationship issues than their bond already put him. Plus - he had a bone to pick. Thankfully, the moment interrupted the spiraling chaos of their emotions just enough for both to re-center themselves, the heat in the room fading to little more than an uncomfortable memory. As his concerns about Liandra and the twins returned to the forefront of his mind, so too did he recall the gravity of the situation, and the particular relevance of the topic at hand. "Alec... I just saw the three of them in the training room." His expression already turning sympathetic, he gestured towards the tablet abandoned upon Alec's desk. "Check the archive if you like. They... They asked me about my parabatai rune."

Sure enough, that alone was enough to shove aside any lingering discomfort, Alec looking back to Jace with a confused frown. "...What? They want to bond?"

Jace shifted uncomfortably, looking away as he tried to explain without getting himself - or Alec - upset again. "No. In fact, they seemed kind of...  _afraid_ of it. They asked me if it hurt when I got it."

"Why... ?" Alec murmured, the rest of the question fading.

With raised hands, Jace admitted, "I have no idea. They have some strange ideas about it, apparently. Anyway, they were asking because..." He shuffled a bit more, but there wasn't any getting past it - best to just finish ripping the band-aid off. "...because Liandra wants to force it on them."

" _What_?!" After his initial reaction, Alec checked himself, monitoring his demeanor and struggling to maintain a professional approach to such a severe accusation. "Jace, that's ridiculous. You can't _force_  people to become parabatai."

Alec wasn't entirely sold on his own conclusion, and Jace knew it, giving him the footing he needed to drive his point home. "Can't you?" he pressed, taking a step toward Alec. "Think about it. If we'd been twin brothers... if we'd naturally coordinated _that_  well... and if we'd had a handler  _that_ tight-assed..."

Alec had to pause him a moment to squeeze in a peaked brow. "Mom  _is_ that tight-assed."

"Fair," Jace conceded. "Point being, it may be impossible to force unwilling participants to become parabatai, but it is  _absolutely_ possible to convince a pair of traumatized kids that it's 'for the best' or whatever. Maybe that's why they were faking their forms? So Liandra would back off on the whole thing?"

Accusation aside, it was a solid enough theory. "Maybe," Alec murmured, glancing back towards the abandoned tablet. "Something still doesn't quite fit right. The live feed just doesn't look faked. If anything, it looks more natural than the recording." Noticing Jace getting heated again, he quickly raised his hands in defense and met his brother eye-to-eye. "Hey. I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm just also not for certain saying you're right. I'll dig up whatever our records have on Liandra, and we'll absolutely keep tabs on her. Just promise me you won't get too close to those kids, alright? They're under just as much scrutiny as Liandra - for their own sake as much as ours."

Jace opened his mouth to argue the point, but before he could Alec's door swung open and Clary and Izzy burst through, their manners wild and frantic.

"Alec!" Izzy cried as she ran up to her brother. Behind her, Jace turned to greet Clary with a hug to see if she was okay, only to be met with a backward reflex and confused furrow.

Their brief exchange went largely unnoticed as Alec hugged his sister. "Izzy? What's wrong? What happened?"

After giving him a tight hug, Izzy stepped back and looked up, her hands gripping Alec's wrists. "There was a demon attack at the Café au Coeur... the place where we met Magnus."

"So?" he pressed, not following. "You took care of it, right?"

Clary turned away from Jace, lacking any interest in dealing with all of that right now. "No, Alec. Turns out the cafe's run by a pair of Shadowhunters!"

Clary's words confused Jace more than her actions, providing him with a perfect distraction. "Weird. But that's a good thing, right? You guys had backup?"

" _No_ ," Izzy continued, growing exasperated. Looking back at Alec, she steeled herself, knowing nothing good would follow her admission.

"Alec... they've got Magnus."

* * *

Daraiya rolled her eyes, finally stalking over to Mar and Magnus now that the girls were gone. "Cut it out, Mar," she demanded, reaching out and yanking his hand out of Magnus' hair.

Magnus flinched, rather concerned by her disregard for the seraph blade pressed against his neck. Still, he appreciated the removal, and so reasoned she couldn't be  _all_ bad.

Mar smirked at Daraiya, his hand taking up her locks in place of Magnus'. "My apologies,  _mon amour_." The words gave Magnus pause, and were hardly enough warning for the ensuing lip-lock, the pair holding each other's faces as if afraid the other might pull away before they'd had their fill.

Magnus had a thought to seize the awkward opportunity to cast some spell or other - a freezing spell, perhaps, though then they'd be stuck like that... - but before he so much as lifted a finger Daraiya's rapier found the corner of his eye, reminding him of the lethal precision she'd exacted just a handful of minutes prior. " _Non, Monsieur_ Bane _._ " Though their kiss had ended, she held Mar's gaze a second longer, as much to assert their command of the situation as to assuage her desire, then slowly she shifted her head to stare past Mar with those same, gleaming green eyes. "They say you're one of if not  _the_ most powerful Warlock this side of the Atlantic, at least." In a quick and unnervingly close movement, she slipped her sword past Magnus' eye to lay it along his temple. Here, she applied just a bit of pressure, encouraging him to move away from the table and toward the center of the now-disheveled cafe. "We take this as fact, not mere rumor. Still, you'll not want to gamble against our speed."

"I don't intend to," Magnus agreed, slowly walking in time with the pair's swords. He kept his hands raised, letting them see he wasn't weaving any spells, hoping the gesture would aid his situation. "That said, I hope you'll oblige my curiosity?"

Four inquisitive eyes followed his every movement. It felt almost like walking down a hall of renaissance portraits, save for the very real threat of their swords. Mar's hand had drifted from Daraiya's face to slide around her waist, holding her against him so the full of her body rested against his. Daraiya kept herself similarly intimate with Mar, her arm looped around his shoulders so her fingers could trace their long, pointed nails along the veins in his neck. Theirs was the kind of beauty one found in the sleek prowl of a panther, or the glow of an active volcano, or the glide of a shark through water: breathtaking in both figurative and literal terms.

Mar's smile offered as much comfort as it disturbed, his sword slowly tracing down Magnus' neck and along the edge of the ribcage protecting his heart. "Why not? Ask away,  _mon fléau_."

Beside him, Daraiya drew the tip of her rapier down the side of Magnus' face, tracing the contour of his cheek down to his jawline, then along the slope of his neck. "What questions burn away in that fascinating mind of yours, I wonder?"

Under other circumstances, Magnus might have delighted in the tantalizing play. His heart raced the closer the swords veered towards his vitals, then swiftly calmed as they strayed. A thought flickered through his mind, Alec's cocky smile consuming Mar's sadistic grin, but he banished the thought with a blink.  _Not now_. He swallowed, brow furrowed, mind racing to piece together his way out of this. "...You truly have no qualms about killing me, do you?" he murmured, almost sounding defeated by the realization.

"Mmm..." Mar purred, tilting his head as he turned the question over in his mind. After a time of what appeared to be careful thought, he eventually replied in a bland, almost uninterested tone, "No, not really."

His nonchalant manner irritated Magnus, more than the orientation of their weapons intimidated him. This was, after all, his  _life_ they were discussing! Such a thing shouldn't be taken so lightly! "Yet still I breathe," he scowled, barely keeping himself from outright challenging their threats of violence. "I presume you have some point to all of this, or else you'd have let me go by now - one way or another."

"It'd be a shame to loose such a lovely creature," Daraiya cooed, the tip of her blade finding its way under Magnus' collar. It lost her any credit she might have gained in the Warlock's eyes - clearly, she had just as much "interest" in him as Mar did, and not an ounce more. "Of course, shame alone won't be enough to stay our hands if it comes to that."

Magnus had to grit his way through the pair's toying intimidation to unpack the elusive truth. Proud as he was with his appearances, a pretty face was easy to find in every corner of the world, and these two had made no small show of just how easily they could draw them out. No, he reasoned whatever shred of regret they might have for snuffing out his light probably had more to do with his magic than his looks. "Awful lot of trouble to go through for a spell," he remarked, his eyes circling to refer to their shambled surroundings.

To that, Daraiya cried out an amused laugh, and Mar shook his head with a _tsk, tsk, tsk_. "It's not always about you, _mon fléau_."

Magnus' eyes widened, his heart sinking as Mar's meaning dawned on him. A pit swelled in his stomach and his throat tightened until he was able to choke out only a single, whispered word. "...Alec." Their chuckling smiles confirmed his conclusion, lighting a seething rage that returned to him the strength of his voice. "If you lay a  _finger_ on Alexander—"

Daraiya shut him up with a flick of her sword, slicing a clean cut about an inch or two through the collar of his shirt, then laying the flat of its tip into the curve of his cheek. "Oh, please, don't be so dramatic. We just want to have a conversation with him, that's all."

The words did little to soothe him, his suspicions swelling the more they danced around. On some level, he recognized the pair were toying with him, saying whatever it was they felt like saying with little regard for how accurate any of it was, but if there was even the  _slightest_ chance Alec might come into harm's way... that  _he_  might be the reason for it... then he would take even the most innocuous words as truth until proven otherwise. "Perhaps this is just me, but all of this—" He gestured with one hand to refer to the swords, only to have each re-centered upon the nearest vitals. True to their word, they weren't taking  _any_  risks with him. "—seems a bit much for a simple discussion," he finished, steeling himself against their impositions. "You're Shadowhunters, aren't you? Perhaps you'd be better served paying the Institute a visit? He's far more likely to take kindly to your concerns with a civil approach, as opposed to threatening his lover."

Mar's sigh sounded legitimately disappointed, like Magnus' suggestion had just removed him from a mental list of prospects - to his surprise, the thought rather irked him. " _Mon fléau_ , surely you are smarter than this? You do not truly believe we would go through 'all of this'..." He circled Magnus' heart with the point of his sword, the motion pulling a small tear in the fabric of his shirt. "...if such a peaceful resolution were possible?"

Finally, Magnus felt like he was actually getting somewhere with the pair, his inquisitiveness taking momentary precedent over his anger. "Resolution? So you two had some sort of falling out with—?"

"That's quite enough talking, I think."

The sudden voice startled all three of them, a feat Magnus hadn't thought possible given the pair's apparent speed and general combative prowess. It was a male voice coming from a far corner of the room, deeper and more matured than Mar's though not by much. The owner leaned against a wall with his arms folded across his chest, most of him obscured from the shadows the cafe's dim lights couldn't banish. Still, the silhouette betrayed plenty enough information for Magnus to identify him, particularly when he stood up and three long, swaying tendrils broke free from his frame.

As Cyd stepped out from the corner of the room, the shadows slowly peeled back along his slender, toned form. His tendrils hung from a shaved head and rocked back-and-forth in steady rhythm with his approach, both fascinating and terrifying in their alien manifestation upon an otherwise human body. The only other clue to his other-worldly nature revealed itself as the light at last touched his face, showing Magnus for the first time the white fog that overtook the full of his eyes. His skin, in contrast, was a deep brown, much darker than Mar and Daraiya but still light enough to allude to a mixed-race heritage. Come to think of it, all three of them appeared to hail from a half-Caucasian lineage, spurring a needling thought in the very back of Magnus' mind. Before he could draw it out, however, Cyd spoke once more, the heft of his voice adding to his overall dominating presence. "They'll know what they need to know as they need to."

Mar and Daraiya didn't appear to agree, or were at the very least frustrated by it, but they nonetheless conceded without any vocal protest. Their manners quieted considerably as they looked back at Magnus, vibrant eyes all but glaring at him as if it were  _his_ fault they'd been cut off. Most important in all of this, however, was the revelation that the pair apparently answered to Cyd. The three of them were at the very least associates of some sort, but they didn't appear to share anything which would tie them together. Both suspicious and terribly curious, Magnus warily ventured as he continued surveying Cyd head-to-toe, "...I suppose that means you won't confirm for me whether or not you're a Warlock?"

The most answer he'd receive was a half-amused laugh - no roll of the eyes, no peaked or furrowed brows, no sarcastic mutter to hint one way or the other. After that, Cyd turned to stare out through the sheer curtains, watching as the sun finished diving behind the city's towering skyline. "They should be here soon. Make sure they clearly understand our terms." After receiving a nod from both fencers, he turned and made his slow way toward the kitchen, one hand waving in Magnus' general direction. "You should relax. We'll only hurt your friends if it's deemed necessary."

Trailing the strange young man, Magnus remarked beneath a raised brow, "Quite frankly, I'm more worried about myself than them at present. I'm the one with two Seraph blades at my neck, after all."

At this, Cyd paused, one hand upon one of the kitchen doors. He took his time turning over Magnus' words, no doubt studying them for what information he was trying to weasel out and determining how much or little to disclose. Finally, his head shifted so a single white eye could peer over his shoulder, and he replied with a low and somber voice, "Yes, those are Seraph blades. However, remember that you are merely a means to an end. Our quarrel is not with you, nor even with your boyfriend. It is with—"

A frenzy of movement whirled through the next instant. The door threw open alongside a jarring slam. The curve of a bow breached the threshold just ahead of an arrow sliding into place, and then the searing, blue eye that would aim it. A silver blur disturbed the air around Magnus as the pair holding him captive spun into place. One Seraph blade sliced before them, colliding into the arrow that flew through the air and altering its course just enough to leave Mar with little more than a red slit along his pronounced cheek bone. To his other side, Daraiya's wrist grabbed hold of the silver, whip-like snake that tried to lash her, and the smell of burning flesh began to permeate the air. By the time Jace and Clary stepped into place beside Alec and Izzy, swords drawn and ready at their sides, Mar had his rapier held straight before him, one foot behind the other and his free hand held behind his back. Magnus stood behind him, eyes wide and gazing to Alec in silent warning while Daraiya smirked over his shoulder. Her arm hugged around his torso to hold her blade along the large vein pumping blood through his neck, her mocking eyes trickling over the four Shadowhunters head-to-toe while her tongue took Magnus' earlobe between her teeth. Behind them, the kitchen doors swung, but none of them had spied enough of Cyd's fleeing form to identify him.

In the end, Mar would be the one to break the silence, greeting the four of them with a jarringly pleasant chirp.

" _Bonsoir_ , and welcome to the Café au Coeur!"


	6. Concussive

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zX7UWavbT5g&index=6&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

As usual, the gravity of the situation had little effect upon Jace's mouth. "...What the fuck?"

His crude and abrupt manner didn't appear to bother Mar any, continuing on with little regard for the four hunters' opinions of things. "If Mademoiselle Isabelle would be so kind as to drop her threat upon _ma sœur_..." His hand moved from behind his back to gesture towards Izzy's snake, then slid back into place. "...I'm sure she'd be happy to give Monsieur Bane a little more breathing room,  _non_?"

To ensure they - well, Alec - understood his meaning, Daraiya gave Magnus' ear a soft suckle, making him clench his eyes shut and squirm uncomfortably in her arm. The pure rage it lit within the messy-haired Shadowhunter filled her with glee, and she almost pouted when he twitched his clenched jaw just enough to signal Izzy. Through it all, he kept his next arrow locked and drawn, though a subtle adjustment betrayed the shifting of targets from Mar's head to Daraiya's throat.

Izzy found herself loathe to concede, but for all the anger she felt towards the silver-haired fencers she imagined Alec's state to be ten times worse. A scowl twisting her features, she tossed her end of her snake aside, allowing the weapon to shrivel back into a mere bracelet upon the ground. As Daraiya likewise released her grip of the blessed weapon, the four of them glimpsed the red-hot sear upon her palm, imparting even more questions for them to ponder about their mysterious adversaries.

The answers would have to come later, after they'd ensured Magnus' safety. His glare set upon Daraiya, Alec bit out, "Release him."

Even from across the room, the pair could feel the blood boiling in Alec's voice, as much as they could taste the hate burning in his eyes. It drew amused chuckles from the both of them, Daraiya opening her mouth as she did so and freeing Magnus' ear, though not without a parting lick of his fleeting flesh.

It damn near sent Alec over the edge, somehow finding a way to draw his arrow even further back. " _Release. Him._ "

Jace's heart began to race, Alec's fury spilling out into him and sending a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through him. Oh, how badly he wanted to charge forward and sink his blade through those cocky smiles... but the very fact that he felt this way underscored just how important it was that he try and keep his parabatai thinking straight. "Careful," he hissed under his breath, eying the way Daraiya's blade pressed into Magnus' skin.

"Yes, careful," Mar chirped across the room, angling his face to gaze in Jace's direction. "Monsieur Bane is a truly magnificent creature, and I am sure you would like him back in one, fully functional piece,  _non_?"

Caught in Daraiya's grasp, a Seraph blade to his throat, Magnus found himself limited in options, but for better or worse he could sense how close Alec teetered on the edge of launching that arrow. He knew his safety was the only thing staying his hand, but imagined it would only take one slip, one step too far, to tip the young Shadowhunter into judging the risk "worth it." Touched as he was by the sentiment, he had no intention of dying this evening, especially if doing so would send Alec into one of his rampant, downward spirals of crippling guilt and self-loathing.

To his credit, Alec managed to force himself to relax his bow, though he kept his arrow knocked and aimed. "What do you  _want_?" he demanded, struggling to maintain control. Every thought racing through his mind begged for a swift and bloody end to the scum restraining Magnus. Much like Magnus, he too was analyzing the environment out of the corners of his eyes, identifying hazards and improvised weapons and cover. He wanted nothing more than to sink four arrows into those laughing, green eyes, and to be honest it kind of frightened him that a single Warlock could bring him to such a state. It was only with Jace as an outlet that he maintained such precarious control over this snarling temper, and he couldn't say for sure how much longer even that would last.

After all, Jace had _always_ been quicker to action than he. Luckily, his parabatai managed to catch the look in Magnus' eye.

"We just wish to talk,  _mon amie_. Your lover is merely our assurance you'll let us say our peace." Mar hesitated, momentarily debating whether or not to elaborate, then ultimately settled for simply saying, "Our track record with other Shadowhunters is... less than stellar, you see."

Their positioning proved particularly advantageous for Magnus. From this angle, neither Mar nor Daraiya could see his face, nor detect the subtle shifting of his hand - so long as he didn't move  _too_ much, so long as the muscles of his arm and chest remained  _perfectly still_...

_Keep him talking. Keep them distracted._

Clary caught on, keeping her eyes trained upon Mar lest she give it away. "You know, apprehending Warlocks and holding them ransom might have something to do with that!" she yelled across the room. She swore she could have cut the air itself, so tense it'd grown. Though she wouldn't pretend she felt anything close to what the others were going through, least of all Alec, she simply wouldn't tolerate someone -  _anyone_ \- threatening her friends.

Her remark brought out a chuckle. For a moment, Mar's mind seemed to drift, his thoughts wandering to a time and place far from here as he softly, almost wistfully conceded, "...It might." As further sorrow seeped through his expression, so alien upon that usually gleaming face, his voice felt, and in a moment of unexpected candor he murmured, "In another time, it was meant that we be friends, but this seems to be a child's dream."

The remark gave them pause, puzzling over his words. It nearly disrupted their silent planning, but Daraiya grunted, urging Mar to get on with it but inadvertently drawing their attentions back to Magnus.

When had his hand started bleeding... ?

Mar shook himself from his reminiscence, returning a sharpened and rejuvenated grin to Alec. "In any event, all we wish is to be left in peace."

Unfortunately, Alec remained unaware of his companions, too clouded with rage to recognize subtle twitches and glances. Mar's request didn't help things, making him feel almost insulted by its implicit arrogance. " _Excuse_ me? You want us to give you peace, to show you  _mercy_ , and  _this_ is how you ask for it?!" His fingers coiled tighter around the feathers of his arrow, Jace's urges to keep it together growing more distant with every slipping second.

"I'm sure  _mesdemoiselles_ informed you of the demon attack?" Mar asked with a sigh. "This was most unfortunate, and not of our planning." With brows upturned, he found Izzy with a look filled with longing. "I truly wanted nothing more than to court you,  _mon cher_."

Daraiya spat upon the ground, then hissed in Magnus' ear as she glowered at Mar's back, " _Ce cochon_!"

The sudden voice in his ear startled him, and he clenched his eyes shut tight for fear the young maiden might pick up on things.  _Just a little more..._

"Alas," he continued, ignoring Dariaya and refocusing upon Alec, "these things happen. You witnessed my  _bien-aimé_ Daraiya draw her sword, and we could hide in plain sight no longer. It was imperative we take initiative against—"

Suddenly, Magnus opened his eyes, their glamor discarded and replaced with a faint glow circling his feline irises. " _Now_!" he cried, snapping his bloodied fingers - even without further direction, he knew the exclamation would make Alec loose his arrow, if not because of him then because it would surely inspire Daraiya to slit his throat.

Sure enough, he could feel the edge of her Seraph blade begin to pull along his flesh, and saw the glint of a blessed arrow head slice through the air. An instant later, his body slammed against the wall behind Alec, Izzy moving to catch his fall while her brother struggled to make sense of the stone impression of Magnus collapsing to dust in Daraiya's arms. "Magnus?!" he yelled, whirling around in response to the loud slam, then instantly relieved by the sight of Magnus' weary form. He fell to his knees, a hand cupping Magnus' face while he frantically surveyed his condition.

Magnus smirked, his dazed eyes struggling to find Alec. "Blink spell," he muttered, weakly lifting his hand to reveal a tiny, ivory tab hanging from one of his many bracelets, innocuous enough a charm save for the symbol revealed in its crimson stain.

" _Mêlant le ravageur_!"

They all turned in the direction of Daraiya's infuriated hiss and found her throwing her handful of Magnus' dust aside. It seemed Mar had deflected the arrow easily enough, the thing lodged deep into the hardwood table at their side.

Jace and Clary moved between them and the silver-haired fencers, swords drawn and ready. Though Magnus had successfully freed himself, on top of depleting his magical stores it left his captors thoroughly pissed off and looking to retaliate. "That spell took a lot out of him," Jace told Alec, more to keep Alec focused on the situation at hand than to tell him anything he couldn't figure out himself. He glanced over his shoulder and looked to Alec for direction, his brow wrought with concern.

Alec was the head of the institute. It was his call. Magnus' struggle to remain conscious in his arms only worsened his desire to grab his bow and quiver and make voodoo dolls out of Mar and Daraiya, but even as he tried to give Jace the "kill" order his sense of priorities held fast. "...I'll guard him. You three seize those bastards so we can drag them down to the Silent Brothers for questioning."

Mar stared down the trio as his feet and arms slid back into the base fencing position. A sneer made its way across his face, a peculiar look for him. "You Shadowhunters always  _were_ such a tiresome bunch." The corners of his mouth twitched back towards a cocky smile, and he lifted his sword further to align its tip exactly with Jace's throat. "Don't think we'll go easy on you simply because we wish for peace."

Izzy shrugged with her head as her hand found the hilt of her Seraph blade. "Don't threaten our friends." She took the first initiative, dashing straight towards Mar.

On the way here, Clary and Izzy had briefed the boys on Daraiya's uncanny speed - it was safe to say Mar was much the same. Their only advantage here was their numbers, but even that would hardly mean much if they didn't anticipate their opponents' every move. With this in mind, Jace ran after Izzy, correctly predicting Daraiya's move to defend Mar and swinging his own Seraph blade around to deflect her rapier.

With Mar on Izzy and Daraiya on Jace, Clary had her opportunity to come in on Mar's unguarded side - a strike to the leg should slow him down plenty. Unfortunately, Mar was ready, his blade already moving around and down to protect himself as soon as he'd pushed Izzy's attack safely away. Jace wove in next, his fist slipping through the fray to collide with the side of Mar's head. Between the unorthodox maneuver and the juggling of three highly competent fighters, Daraiya was just barely too slow to defend Mar - but she could still repay Jace's blow with a slice along the top of his arm. Jace howled in pain, but in it was a slight victory - they couldn't have anticipated Daraiya's exact strike, but they'd gone into this knowing it'd be up to them to make their own opportunities... and that they'd come at a price.

Izzy made good on Jace's sacrifice to draw Daraiya's blade away from her legs, twirling low to the ground to bring her blade sweeping towards Daraiya's calf. Likewise, Clary made a second go for Mar's, taking full advantage of his backward stumble. Both girls found their targets, their Seraph blades connecting with the fabric of the pair's pantlegs...

...and passing clear through, with little resistance.

Daraiya and Mar regained themselves a few paces back, their three adversaries staring at their shins in disbelief. The fabric of their slacks hung in the places Izzy and Clary had cut them open, large holes revealing legs within that were far too slender, far too hardened, far too glistening. As the girls lifted back to a stand, the pair smirked and flourished their rapiers.

"Like what you see?" Daraiya purred, suggestively shifting upon her hips. "Here..."

In a blur, they traded positions, their swords drawing elegantly through the air between them. A second later, they stopped, their handiwork leaving fragments of their slacks to fall abandoned upon the floor. More and more fabric fell until all that remained were shorts that exposed nearly the full length of their legs - their  _Mantid_ legs.

"...That better?" Mar chuckled, eying their opponents in full delight.

"W-What... ?!" Jace choked, hardly able to believe his eyes. The demonic flesh continued halfway up their thighs, at which point their bronzed skin resumed. As if that weren't baffling enough, they could barely make out the tell-tale black curls of the Speed rune upon their hips, poking out from beneath what remained of their pants. The combination of Mantid legs and Speed runes certainly explained their uncanny agility, but such a thing shouldn't have been possible.

Then again, a human of  _any_ kind, save for Warlocks, really shouldn't have been able to sport demonic flesh at all, so perhaps the presence of Shadowhunter runes were rather beside the point. "But... you're Shadowhunters..." Clary murmured, her tone a confused mess between bewilderment, concern, and her prior rage. "How... ?"

Daraiya scoffed, one long, pointed leg tracing along the floor as it drew behind her other. " _Now_ she wishes to talk,  _frère_."

"Mmm," Mar murmured, tilting his smiling face as he too returned to the  _en garde_ position. "That's too bad,  _sœur_. I no longer have the patience for words!"

Before Jace, Izzy, and Clary had regained themselves, Daraiya and Mar lunged forward, taking their turn at the offensive. Their legs now free to move more naturally, inhibited by neither clothing nor pretenses any longer, their speed gained an additional edge. It had taken Jace, Izzy, and Clary a hefty dose of teamwork and coordination to land blows against the fencers - now, it was all they could do to keep up just enough to defend themselves. From his spot against the wall, Alec watched on with growing worry, his hands clutching Magnus tight. Beyond his original vendetta, he now felt driven to charge in and help his friends, his  _parabatai_. That's what the bond was for, right? But he had to protect Magnus... He  _had_ to. If anything happened to him...

A clutch of his arm drew his distraught eyes - the Warlock was at last strengthening his hold upon consciousness. "Magnus?!" Alec breathed, one hand moving to hold his lover's face. "I'm here. You're safe, now." Something was bothering Magnus, a muffled grunt escaping him as his other hand sought Alec's other arm. Unfortunately, whatever it was he tried to say simply didn't make it through, and Alec couldn't help but worry further. "It's okay, Magnus. I've got you," he soothed, his hand lifting to gently comb Magnus' hair away from his face.

Magnus' eyes fluttered as he continued pulling himself out of his haze. That word again... something starting with an "S"?

"...Stand? You want to stand?" Alec asked, confused. "No, Magnus. You have to rest."

His hands clutched Alec tighter. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide, their feline slits thinning. Finally, the word came through, spat from his tongue while one hand released Alec's arm to sloppily throw a pathetic jolt of energy behind him.

" _Cyd_!!!"

Alarm seized Alec's heart - a moment later, a slithering tendril coiled his throat. In a desperate counter-attack, Alec jolted up to his feet and slammed an elbow back, his other hand grabbing the alien length gripping his throat. Cyd's hand caught his elbow, and another tendril claimed his wrist - together, they yanked Alec away from Magnus, and even as the Warlock frantically found his footing a booted heel crashed against his temple, sending him back down to the ground unconscious.

"Magnus!!!" Alec yelled, violently struggling against his assailant. "Get  _off_ of me, mother fucker!"

Jace, Izzy, and Clary hadn't noticed Cyd's silent re-entry into the cafe, slipping through the hole the Scorpios from earlier left in the cafe's dividing wall. The three had been too overwhelmed by their opponents, only now spinning around to check on Alec and Magnus when they heard their comrade's yell. "Alec!" Jace cried in alarm - Izzy and Clary narrowly defended him against Daraiya and Mar's coordinated attack, the blades boxing them against Jace's sides.

"We're running late," Cyd's plaintive voice droned as he dragged Alec around him. At first, Alec was able to resist Cyd's puppeteering, but as the tendril around his throat tightened his air supply grew short, and his muscles grew weak. The asphyxiation setting in, Cyd made short work of moving Alec between himself and Jace and forcing him to his knees, though Alec still offered the occasional, hopeless protest. "I don't welcome harm upon  _any_ of us, believe it or not, but I'm rather eager to return home - as are Mar and Daraiya, I'm sure." The pair half-scoffed in response, apparently perfectly content to dueling the night away, but it meant little to the tendril-haired DJ. "Therefore, I'll pose but a single question, Jace Herondale."

Jace grit his teeth, scouring everything he could recollect about Cyd, questioning every moment. How much did Cyd know about him, about all of them? Had he been colluding with Daraiya and Mar from the start? Just how  _real_ were those tendrils?

That last one would not yet be answered, but it would certainly be brought to immediate relevance as Cyd's third tendril sprung out from behind him, arching through the air before coming to a sudden halt, the tip of its stinger lingering just inches away from Alec's chest. Jace reflexively jerked forward to save his brother, but found himself caged as Daraiya and Mar spun around, Izzy and Clary again catching their rapiers before any real harm could come Jace's way. Still, the point had been made - the three of them were Daraiya and Mar's prisoners, at least until Cyd gave the order to release them.

Cyd's expression hardened into a melancholy scowl, his tendrils holding Alec out for Jace to clearly see. Suffocating, Alec couldn't offer any words to influence Jace, able only to continue his feeble struggle and helplessly stare. After allowing a passing moment for the scene to sink in, Cyd at last asked, "...What would you do to save your parabatai, Jace Herondale?"

Jace blinked, eyes snapping from Alec to meet Cyd head-on. His lips parted to give his answer: anything,  _of course_. Just before he did, however, he found himself questioning why Cyd had even asked in the first place. To mock him? To test him? Wouldn't it be easier to simply spell out the ultimatum - let us go, or Alec dies? Why was the parabatai bond so important, more important than that of Alec's true sibling, Izzy? He frowned, studying Cyd carefully, then warily answered, "...you already know the answer to that."

Cyd appeared to consider Jace's words for a moment before offering a small shrug. "I wasn't asking myself, I was asking you." After another pause, he looked up and motioned with his head for Daraiya and Mar to lower their blades and leave. "They won't follow you, so long as I have Alec and Magnus."

The pair scowled, but acquiesced, regarding Jace, Izzy, and Clary with dissent. As Cyd said, none of them lifted a finger to stop their vulture-like circling, nor eventual retreat. By the end, their demeanor withdrew to something more pleasant, if sterile, an air of arrogance hanging around them as smiles crawled their ways back across their lips. Daraiya stalked off with little more than a haughty _harrumph_ , but just before he slipped away after her Mar paused to blow a kiss, carried upon a snide jeer. " _Au revoir, mesdemoiselles_!"

Slowly, Cyd walked away from Magnus, dragging Alec along in front of him. It inspired a renewed vigor in Alec's struggling, but even still it proved fruitless. Cyd motioned with his free hand towards the unconscious Warlock, offering, "Go on. You'll find he's alright, I just couldn't have him casting another pesky spell." When still they hesitated, he smirked. "It's my show of good will, since you behaved and didn't make a liar out of me. I won't harm Alec..."

Taking his word for it, Izzy and Clary rushed to Magnus' side, but Jace remained focused on Cyd, his Seraph blade itching to strike at the first chance he got. "I thought you were running late? Stop messing around - let Alec go and get out of here already."

Cyd shrugged, continuing to casually stroll towards the kitchen doors. "You never answered my question."

"Because it's a stupid question," Jace snapped back. "I'd do  _anything_ to save Alec."

Cyd laughed. "Really?" Finally, he came to a stop in front of the kitchen's doors, then turned to face Jace and the others. Alec's eyelids had grown heavy, his struggles ceased in the name of conserving energy and precious oxygen. "It makes little difference to me, I suppose. You'd do well to think on it some more, Jace Herondale, if you ever hope to understand Gemini."

The remark stunned him and, belatedly, the girls behind him. "...Gemini? You mean... ?"

Instead of an answer, Cyd took his prisoner in both hands, tendrils slowly retracting to fall innocently back behind him, and threw Alec towards Jace. "Until we meet again, Jace Herondale."

"Wait!" Jace yelled, running forward to catch Alec.

Alec snarled, rage wrinkling the full of his face. Without warning, he grabbed Jace's Seraph blade and spun around, clumsily slicing at Cyd's back. Too light-headed to be very effective, he caught only the back of Cyd's shirt, the three tendrils swiftly slithering out of harm's way. Cyd paused, feeling the rush of air against his skin, knowing by now the Shadowhunters behind him would be staring in bafflement at what the strike had revealed. He considered his options, and ultimately a distant, thin hope inspired him to dip one tendril into the slit Alec made in his shirt. With a gentle tug, he tore the fabric wider, so that by the time he dropped it the full of his left shoulder blade could be clearly seen.

The display provoked as many questions as it answered: a parabatai rune, split in two by a thick, deep scar clear through the middle.

When the silence grew too uncomfortable, Cyd continued on his way and disappeared through the kitchen doors, echoing his greeting from the night before.

" _Quia pax fratribus_."


	7. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone not interested in the smut, once it starts getting heavy skip down to the line break - that's where the rest of things picks back up.

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PTFwQP86BRs&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU&index=7)\--]

"Everything looks good, Mr. Bane."

Magnus paid the Institute's medical examiner his insincere gratitude with a restrained nod and sterile "Thank you," the glamour instantly returning to his eyes the very instant the young lad got that accursed flashlight out of his eyes. As his pupils readjusted to normal lighting, he turned to find Alec seated beside him on the examination table, another examiner finishing her investigations of his neck. He appeared to have a lot on his mind, understandable given the state of affairs - Magnus tried to comfort him with a small smile and squeeze of his hand.

It got Alec to look up, at least, returning the smile with a fleeting lift of the corners of his mouth.

"I... I'm sorry, Mr. Lightwood," the examiner replied, wrestling with her observations as she lowered her stainless-steel implements upon the table. "I can't find any residue." After a moment's hesitation, she looked over her shoulder to where Jace leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. "You're... sure it was a Ravener that attacked him... ?"

The question had both Alec and Magnus looking warily at Jace. Jace, however, didn't hesitate for a second, standing up with a frown. "They're not exactly discreet. What else could it have been?"

She quickly nodded, turning back to Alec. "Of course." For a moment, she glanced him over again, checking to see if there was anything she could have possibly missed, but came up with nothing. With a sigh of defeat, she stepped back and offered Alec a hand to help him down off the table. "On the bright side, you don't have to worry about being affected by any toxins. Perhaps it simply wasn't producing ichor at the time..."

Though his lips parted, wanting to say something, Alec remained quiet. The truth would only escalate things out of control. With Liandra's loyalties under question and Gemini implicated in Cyd's dealings...

"Yes, that's probably it," Magnus replied with a bright smile - his charisma had always been top-notch, even when his mood took a downswing.

Izzy approached and laid a comforting hand upon both examiners' shoulders. "Thank you both for checking them out. We'll let you know if we find any signs of contamination."

"Of course," Alec's examiner replied cheerily, forcing the oddity of the situation behind her.

Magnus' examiner replied with a nod and a smile, but as the pair returned to their work elsewhere in the room he couldn't stop from periodically glancing back at Magnus in wonder. Surely, a Warlock of his caliber couldn't have been subdued by a single Ravener? He'd have been able to detect the glamour, right... ?

Best not to think too much on it. He didn't want any trouble with the Head of the Institute, after all.

Alec led Magnus, Izzy, and Jace out of the room in silence. Just outside, Clary was on the phone - he caught her eyes and motioned for her to follow.

"Oh, looks like they're out now, gotta go. Thanks again for giving us a ride, Luke! I don't know what we'd do without you!" After a quick exchange of good-byes with Luke, she hung up and pocketed her cell, then hurried to catch up with the others. They walked swiftly through the Institute, careful to avoid making direct contact with anyone - especially Liandra and Gemini. Before any of them spoke to anyone, it was imperative they gather their thoughts and figure out what the hell had just taken place.

Luckily, as Head of the Institute, Alec's office provided the perfect sanctuary of solitude and privacy, ensuring the security of anything they might say against unwanted, prying ears. Holding the door for his friends, he shuffled them all inside, save for Magnus. At his boyfriend's questioning look, Alec's brow softened, and he took Magnus' hands into his own. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice low.

Magnus shook his head and wove the matter aside. "You heard the man, Alexander. I'm fine." To impart additional reassurance, he met Alec's gaze with a smirk. "I've suffered worse, at the hands of much more adept—"

"Magnus." Either the Warlock hadn't caught his meaning, or was trying to avoid the topic - likely a bit of both, given Alec's miserable track record with accurate self-expression. He struggled to discern the best way to convey himself, eyes idly scanning every feature of Magnus' face for the slightest clue which might betray his true feelings. At length, Alec's hand lifted to cup Magnus' face, his fingertips softly tracing the curve of his ear... the ear Daraiya had molested. "...Are you  _okay_?"

_Oh._

The faux cheer faded from Magnus' face as every alternate possibility disappeared into thin air. A rare expanse of silence wrapped around him as he truly considered what Alec was talking about, sorting through the complicated mixture of emotions the encounter had instilled. "...To be frank, I'm not sure," he finally murmured, eyes staring blankly into the middle-distance. "It's been... centuries, I think... since I was last _approached_ in such a manner." He scoffed, following the remark up with dry sarcasm. "That I could effectively wield my magic made it difficult, I suppose." Regaining himself, he looked up Alec with a smile the Shadowhunter could know was genuine, for it was sprinkled with a flickering sadness. "I no longer care to be touched by any random beauty. It's quite refreshing, but a sensation I haven't been used to in a long time." His hands wandered along the fabric of Alec's shirt until his fingertips found its collar. Coiling into the soft folds, he claimed a firm enough grip to pull Alec down until his lips veered in reach of his own. Eyes slipping shut, he swallowed Alec's muffled murmur in the press of his lips, then slowly released the Shadowhunter with a genuine grin. "In short, it was an admittedly jarring experience, but I am alright. Thank you for asking."

Alec couldn't keep his face from brightening, gazing down at Magnus with a faint chuckle. "Good," was the most he could think to say, but it was more than enough. Magnus had always delighted in his simpler manner, anyway. Taking Magnus' hand in his own, he finally turned and led Magnus into his office - they could avoid their new reality no longer.

As he slid the door shut, Alec's composed focus returned to him, looking to each of his friends in kind before making his way over to his desk. Magnus parted somewhere along the way to twirl on a heel and collapse back into one of the office's plush chairs, by now plenty used to making himself comfortable in this particular room. Easing into the leather chair behind his desk, Alec took to rubbing his temple, wanting to do anything but address the evening's events. "...Alright, what do we know about these guys?"

Possessing the most complete account of the subjects' identities, Magnus answered first. "Cyd, The BaSin's current DJ, sporting a trio of Ravener tendrils. Of the three, he's clearly the oldest, and appears to be functioning as their leader."

"Five," Clary corrected. Ignoring Jace's uncomfortable glare, Clary addressed Alec as she continued. "Cyd mentioned Gemini. That's got to mean Jimmy and Naia, right?"

Anticipating Jace's rising temper, Alec passed him a firm look as he quickly replied, "We don't know that for certain... but I'd say it's at the very least likely. Cyd presumed we'd know what he meant when he said the name."

Jace looked away - they didn't need to repeat their earlier argument. As they'd agreed, the twins were still very much of interest. "Let's not forget Liandra, then," he reminded in a low mutter. Looking over at Magnus, he filled the Warlock in on the bits he was missing. "She's the one that brought Gemini here in the first place, the day we met you at The BaSin." Addressing Alec, he admitted for the group's general benefit, "We don't have enough information to speculate on the true nature of her relationship to Cyd, but it's safe to say she's at the very least connected."

Alec nodded, accepting the logic, then turned to his sister. "And of course, we mustn't forget..."

"...Daraiya and Mar," Izzy practically snarled. "An insane French couple who traded their legs for Mantid legs, decided fencing was the most effective way to fight with a Seraph blade, and have a loose concept of personal space."

"Siblings," Magnus replied.

Alec frowned. "What?"

"They're siblings," Magnus repeated. "They called each other ' _frère_ ' and ' _sœur_ '... 'Brother' and 'sister,' respectively."

Clary frowned. "But, they—"

"—'have a loose concept of personal space'," Jace reiterated, nodding in Izzy's direction. "That aside, they and Cyd also have runes. It's safe to assume they've got steles stashed somewhere as well."

"Great," Alec muttered, shaking his head as he mentally worked through it all. "So, what now? What's our next move?"

Izzy folded her arms across her chest, glancing firmly between Alec and Jace. "First things first, we have to get to the bottom of Liandra and Gemini. Ideally, we should do so without raising too much suspicion, but..." Focusing on Alec, her brow furrowed, knowing it'd be difficult for him to stick to what she was about to suggest. "...if it comes to it, we can't let up with Liandra. She brought this mess into our Institute, she gets to answer for it."

Indeed, the thought unsettled Alec. "She's a Clave elite. What can I possibly—"

"You're the Head of this Institute, Alec." Clary's tone was a bit more sympathetic to his situation, but her message proved no less unwavering than Izzy's. "She said it herself - you still hold jurisdiction over what goes on here. All of our resources are  _yours_ to command, not hers..." Finally, she looked up to meet his frustrated glare. "You need to know what  _exactly_ those resources are going towards."

Slowly, Alec looked around the room, each and every one of them looking to him. For the most part, their relationships had remained relatively intact despite his new position, but now there were rare moments like these where his role demanded a particular leader dynamic that made him queasy. Though he would have vocally argued otherwise before, in truth he didn't enjoy having this degree of political responsibility piled upon his shoulders. Although he was the only one who  _could_ voice any significant challenge to the Clave on the New York Institute's behalf, doing so unerringly threw all of his insecurities and personal  _quirks_ , as the more diplomatic of his opponents put it, upon the most public of stages to be debated and judged, relevance be damned.

_How can we trust these are the words of Alec Lightwood, and not of some Warlock's puppet?_

His eyes finally fell upon Magnus. Like the others, his lover gazed back at him, but rather than expectation and reliance he found sympathy, encouragement, and just a touch of fear. Magnus knew what sorts of challenges this path could bring, what stresses it could place upon their already strenuous relationship, and he didn't like it any more than Alec did. Even still... "They're right, Alexander. I think we'll have an easy enough time assessing Jimmy and Naia, but precisely  _because_ of Liandra's position it'd be dangerous to give her even the slightest benefit of the doubt until we know for sure she's on our side."

Alec's nod grew heavy with anxiety, his eyes falling to the ground and his fingers idly picking at the arm of his chair. Even  _thinking_ about confronting Liandra made him sick. Or was it thinking about Liandra at all? His jaw hardened against the incongruous thoughts churning through him, and his eyes slipped shut in a desperate attempt to suppress them. "Alright," he replied, managing an even and steady voice that hid the true source of his anxiety from his friends. As he opened his eyes again, however, he found that Magnus was hardly fooled, a questioning furrow making its way across the Warlock's brow. Escaping the man's gaze, Alec stood up and addressed the others. "I'll approach her first thing tomorrow morning. Once I know where we stand, we can move on to Jimmy and Naia. In the meantime, we'll keep an eye out for the other three." Addressing Jace in particular, he instructed, "I want us personally handling  _all_  reports of Ravener and Mantid activity, just in case it might be them."

Jace didn't need to be told - he'd intended on doing just that anyhow. "We find those bastards, we'll make them pay."

Alec nodded, unsure he'd be able to say much more without giving in to his surmounting nausea. Instead, he settled for exchanging a parting look with Izzy and Clary, the girls doing so upon the backs of apologetic smiles. Jace tried to catch Clary's attention as she slipped through the door, but either she hadn't seen it or was intentionally ignoring him - both irritated him, and he made a mental note to follow up with her later about all the weirdness she'd been passing him. For now, hesitating at the door, he turned to address Alec one last time, a wary glance flickering Magnus' way. "...About Gemini..."

"We'll be quick, Jace," Alec hurriedly assured him. Right now, he just wanted,  _needed_ , to be alone with Magnus. Maybe that would help settle his dysphoria? "I won't let her bond them before we have all the information."

Jace passed an uncomfortable look Magnus' way, whose eyes had grown wide at what he'd heard. He rose a finger and opened his mouth to question the subject - Jace's signal to take his leave. As Alec closed and locked the door behind Jace, Magnus stood up and walked over, a renewed concern tainting his voice with urgency. "Wait. Alexander, please don't tell me you meant what I think you meant? I may not know the finer details about all this Shadowhunter business - well, certainly more now than I had before, at least - and I recognize my understanding of the parabatai bond is rather intentionally kept to a minimum, but even  _I_ know... Alexander?" A different kind of worry swallowed up his rambling as he looked back to Alec, only to find his lover with his eyes closed, forehead pressed against the door, expression strained. Rushing to Alec's side, Magnus placed a hand upon his back and held his arm with the other. "Alec, what's wrong? Here, here, sit down..."

Magnus made to lead Alec back to his desk, but Alec wrapped his hand around to grab Magnus by the wrist. "No," he mumbled, dazed eyes sliding over to find Magnus. A few options raced through his head, Magnus watching on but unable to help without knowing the problem. Eventually, Alec managed to find and hold Magnus' gaze, and the imploring look he gave the Warlock damn near crushed his heart.

Instantly understanding, the glamour fell from Magnus' eyes, revealing the gleaming yellow irises and pointed pupils his beloved adored so much. Though he hadn't the foggiest idea how this would help, he trusted that it would, regarding Alec with as bright a smile as he could muster given the circumstances. "...Better?"

Alec stared into those eyes with an almost intimidating focus, a kind of look Magnus couldn't recall receiving before from the young Shadowhunter. To some extent, it worried him even more, but soon the fog began to clear from his stare, and the pallor of his skin began to ripen back to its usual, rich luster. His breathing evened out, and with a weary sigh he shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to Magnus', hands claiming hold of his hips. "Thank you," he breathed, his voice sounding hurt and broken.

"What's going on, Alec?" Magnus pressed, nudging Alec's cheek with his own. His fingertips curled around Alec's shoulders, begging to pull his boyfriend close and hold him tight, but he refused to do so - he dared not allow Alec to hide behind simple murmurs and averted glances, pulling his face away so he could look Alec in the eye. His feline eyes took on an inquisitiveness a bit too fitting for their nature, and he implored, "Please tell me. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

Alec grew uncomfortable, his eyes lowering but unable to fully escape Magnus' watchful survey. "It's stupid," he muttered, hands tightening upon Magnus' hips. "I don't want to think about it."

" _Nothing_ is stupid, if it's what you truly feel." After a brief pause, it grew clear Alec needed a bit more encouragement than that, so he spoke again to reassure him. "You can tell me anything. I won't judge."

Finally, though he still avoided meeting Magnus' gaze, Alec nodded, but remained silent. His insecurities were only part of the problem, the other part being the risk he'd grow nauseous again if he spoke too directly about it. He wrestled with his words, a feat made more tiresome by his typical difficulty knowing what to say and how to say it. "It's...  _her_..." he whispered, a rare trace of fear in his voice.

Magnus had enough context to piece together who he was talking about, but could only take a wary stab at what Alec's issue with her was, praying against all hope he was wrong. "...It's okay to find girls attractive, Alec," he gently replied, forcing a light-hearted chuckle. In typical social contexts, it really was an odd thing to have to assure an adult male of, and if he didn't find the small humors he could he feared the jealousy might rear its vile tongue.

"It's not 'girls,' Magnus," Alec grumbled, developing a dangerous concoction of embarrassment and guilt. "And it's... It's strange. It makes me feel sick."

Well, that was reassuring. Sort of. Magnus tried to catch Alec's gaze again, trying to better understand what the Shadowhunter was going through. Distantly, he began to wonder if there truly  _had_ been some kind of toxin on Cyd's tendrils, but that didn't really make much sense. Anyway, presuming whatever Alec was going through had a non-natural cause was a bit of a drastic leap, wasn't it? "I think I understand. Your body's reacting to something your heart disagrees with?"

Alec quietly considered this for a while, then slowly,  _finally_ lifted his face once more. What Magnus saw there tore him apart: no more anguish, only fear. "I hate it. I wish I could make it stop. It's... It's not  _me_."

It dawned on Magnus the thing Alec feared wasn't so much the attraction itself, but rather that it might hurt him. Hurt  _them_. With a bit of relief, a bit of sympathy, and a whole lot of love, Magnus sighed and held Alec's face in his hands. "Don't think about it, my darling. Don't worry about what _isn't_ you, only what _is_." He gave Alec a moment to give it a try, his thumb idly stroking the young man's cheek. "...Well? Do you still feel it?"

As Alec's lips parted to speak, Magnus could see the last of his fear melt away, leaving behind a faint glisten in the vibrant irises of his eyes. "Something's there..." Alec breathed, his voice drifting towards a more strained tone. Before Magnus could question it, Alec's lips curled into a pleased grin, and his hands claimed a firmer grasp of Magnus' hips. "...and what I want is right here." With a single step and corresponding turn of his hips, Alec pulled Magnus around and pushed him back, an otherwise telltale thud thankfully muted by the thickness of the wall. Trapped beneath Alec's hips and possessing absolutely no intention to contest the point, Magnus found himself left to beam up and behold his lover's face - Alec was  _absolutely_ feeling much better now.

Even if Magnus had wanted to say anything, Alec didn't give him much opportunity, lips and breath alike captured in the press of a deep kiss. As his eyes slipped shut, he felt the tip of Alec's tongue tracing the seal of his mouth, teasing entry. The play delighted him, given little control in the overall dynamic and needing to seize it if he wanted something bad enough. His own tongue slipped out to pull and suck Alec's back within his mouth, his head lifting forward to aid the errant muscle's desperate quest. The blood racing through his veins encouraged action over thought, hands eagerly homing in upon the top buttons of Alec's shirt.

Ultimately, they would only free a couple before he could feel Alec smiling into their kiss - it was the only warning he'd receive before he found his arms splayed back against the wall, his wrists pinned in the clutch of Alec's hands. As Magnus released a surprised but nonetheless exhilarated gasp, Alec took advantage of the parted kiss to draw his lips along the side of Magnus' face, then down along the slope of his neck. "You seem eager," Alec murmured, his hot breath sweeping against Magnus' flesh, his lips tasting the way it exacerbated Magnus' already speeding pulse.

For all his power, Magnus couldn't stop himself from half-grunting, half-moaning beneath Alec's ministrations, but he maintained enough of himself to meet Alec's press in kind, his hardened swell easily finding Alec's. "What gave it away?" he purred back, his faux innocence tainted by a skipped heartbeat and desperate pant as Alec's teeth suddenly claimed his flesh. The bite sent his feline eyes wheeling, the ensuing suckling pitching his body into a needy squirm. "A-Alec," he panted, fingers coiling and unfurling as they unsuccessfully clutched at the heated air. Alec didn't let up, however - if anything, the assault upon Magnus' flesh only worsened, bringing a buckle to his knees. " _Alec!_ " he repeated, the need in his voice so thick it couldn't possibly be ignored any longer.

Alec eased off of Magnus' neck, topping it off with a tender lick and stray kiss higher up its slope. "Yes?" he whispered, face turning to feed his voice straight into Magnus' ear, his lips only  _just_ flirting with the edge of the lobe they found.

Magnus took it as an invitation to crane his face forward, seeking Alec's ear in kind but too short to quite reach. Instead, he settled for lining first Alec's neck and then his collarbone with tiny nips and kisses, accented by the occasional stray lick. "Please," he whispered between fleeting touches, some semblance of cohesion surfacing through his intoxication.

"Mmm," Alec hummed, a shiver rippling down his spine, Magnus' string of kisses leaving goosebumps upon his skin. His hands slid along Magnus' arms, surveying every elegant curve and slope of his intricate musculature through the thin silk denying him direct access. His fingertips marveled upon every detail they graced along their conquest, as if discovering Magnus' frame for the very first time - that Magnus knew well Alec's relative innocence, and in turn knew every tiny celebration was heartfelt and genuine, merely made him feel even more like a worshiped deity.

_Oh, what a religion **that** would be!_

The thought brought a small smile across his lips, and as Alec's hands at last reached the dive of his shirt beneath his waistband he arched his back and gave Alec a playful roll of his hips. "You know," he whispered, arms peeling off the wall to drape loosely about Alec's shoulders, "I bet I'd look even  _more_ beautiful upon your floor."

The suggestion wove a wickedness into Alec's wide grin, and he retracted his head enough to gaze into Magnus' cocky, hypnotizing smirk. "You think so?" he chuckled, moving in to steal a delicate nip of Magnus' lower lip.

The Warlock needed only give his Shadowhunter one final, firm grind before getting what he wanted, one of Alec's arms constricting around his back while the other snaked below his rear. In a feat of strength that never ceased to impress him, Alec lifted him easily off the floor and away from the wall. For a bit of additional security, Magnus did him the favor of wrapping his legs about the taller man's waist. What he would  _not_ do, however, was settle for that single nibble of his lip. No, the whole time Alec carried him, his hands clutched the sides of Alec's head, fingers curling among thick locks of messy, brown hair, and his tongue launched a new invasion of Alec's mouth, unwilling to let up any more than he absolutely  _had_ to for Alec to breathe.

It was barely enough, leaving Alec to primarily swallow Magnus' sparse exhales and scavenge what oxygen he could from that. Light-headed, breathless, and even more desperate to get Magnus laying down, he took to his knees with a sudden drop, but his arms remained secure and tight around his lover, both concerned for Magnus' safety and reluctant to allow even the slightest space to separate them. His hold upon Magnus remained steadfast even now that he sat upon his knees, and when he eventually let up it was only because his palms hungered for the rest of Magnus' body, moving from their holds to slowly explore the sweep of his back, the spread of his thighs, the stretch of his pants across his ass. The latter, he gave a tight squeeze, and soon felt an approving smile bend their kiss.

"Sorry," Magnus whispered insincerely into Alec's lips. Leaning back in Alec's lap, he took his first true survey of the evening, biting his lower lip in eager approval of the feast he'd known he'd find. His arms glided along Alec's broad shoulders as he moved, allowing his fingers to trickle across Alec's shirt and down the firm musculature of his chest. With a coquettish tilt of his head, he toyed with the way Alec's shirt fell across his sharp contours and idly purred, "Something in the way back there?" As if Alec needed a single hint as to what he spoke of, he tightened his legs around Alec's hips to rub his rear into the cup of Alec's hands - that the motion happened to additionally give Alec's erection a good press was merely an added bonus.

It injected Alec with renewed need, his hands sweeping around to Magnus' front to attack his shimmering belt buckle. He wanted those damned pants gone, and  _quick_.

"Ah, ah!"

Unfortunately for Alec, the tables were now in Magnus' favor, and he intended on paying Alec's prior teasing back in full. One hand grabbed Alec's belt to yank himself forward, instantly closing off the Shadowhunter's access to his own. The other shot two fingers to the base of Alec's chin, lifting his head so that when Magnus spoke, his voice fell into Alec's mouth like life-giving water from a fountain. "You know the drill, don't you?" His fingertips danced beneath Alec's chin like the legs of a spider - meanwhile, the hand down south boasted its expert dexterity, plucking apart the fastenings of Alec's pants with not the mildest snag. A wry smile curled his lips as his fingers slipped behind Alec's outermost layer, the familiar feel of tented, soft cotton brushing against his knuckles. "I have to conduct my inspection, remember?"

Alec was too breathless to reply, his eyes slipping shut and his fingers hooking into the loops of Magnus' pants. The turn of Magnus' palm into his loins drew out a low groan, and in part from an intense desire to be closer to his Warlock but admittedly in part to hide the embarrassment of his rampant flush he nestled his face into the crook of Magnus' neck. Benevolent god that he was, Magnus moved the hand beneath Alec's chin so he could close the distance, trading a delicate dance along his jaw for a possessive rake through his hair. Alec thanked him with a lick to the base of his neck that soon turned to working another small, reddened bruise into his flesh. An approving murmur escaped Magnus' chest, encouraging Alec through the possessive hold of his head, and as a reward he pressed his palm into Alec's swell, summoning forth an even more desperate pant.

Alec's embrace tightened with every stroke of Magnus' fingers up and down along their newest obsession, holding him closer, closer, as close as he could get them without literally becoming one. It drew from Magnus a pleased chuckle, and when the Warlock finally felt fully satisfied with the torture he'd lain upon his lover, or perhaps because this second hickey Alec was administering had at last driven him mad, he gave Alec a tight squeeze, immediately breaking Alec's suckling off into a delighted whimper. "Alright," he mewled into Alec's ear, gradually easing his hand off Alec's heft and sliding it back out into the light, painted nails tracing the tender flesh they abandoned. "You want to put this to good use?" At the end of his extraction, he pressed his fingertip against the sensitive underside of Alec's hood for a lingering moment before swiftly flicking it away.

That additional little taunt inspired Alec to act immediately, lunging forward and hanging Magnus back with both arms curled about him like a harness. "More than anything I'd ever wanted," he huskily whispered, eyes half-lidded in lust. With his newfound leverage, he laid Magnus down with all the gentle care of an angel's wings, but as his hands slid out from under the Warlock they took on a demon's carnal intent, honing in upon and making quick work of Magnus' glimmering buckle. Though he lacked Magnus' practiced and deft refinery, the roughness his manner added to the strip of Magnus' legs tapped into their dance's more impassioned throes, and Magnus couldn't deny he rather reveled in that particular flavor.

It was more than just sex. It was greater than mere love. Magnus was genuinely  _wanted_ , through and through.

Negligently tossing Magnus' trousers and boxers aside, Alec practically fell over his Warlock, catching himself upon hands that gripped the plush rug with pent-up anticipation. Gravity worked what magic it could on his own pants, his heavy belt pulling the garment along his hips, but they soon slowed to a taunting, suspended hang. Magnus smirked, biting his lower lip and caressing Alec's proud cheekbones, then decided to lend the aid of his bare legs, imparting Alec's sides with sensual caresses while they worked his clothing the rest of the way down. "Better?" he chuckled with a beaming grin, the work of his inner thighs complete but not their suggestive stroking.

Alec's expression gleamed in the fireplace's flickering light, wholly mesmerized by the beauty beneath him. "Much," he whispered, shifting his weight onto one arm so he could admire Magnus' lips with gentle fingertips. Eyes basking over everything he beheld, admiring the way light and shadow danced across Magnus' elegant features, he found so many things he wished to say, but couldn't find the words. How could he ever truly express the full breadth of everything he felt, of just how much the Warlock meant to him? Luckily, he didn't need to put voice to any of it - he could see as much in the simple smile that curved his beloved's face, where he found each and every thing he felt reflected back upon him, and in that sight knew they understood each other more perfectly than any spoken words could aid.

That same smile parted, allowing Alec's fingers to sink past the teeth they guarded. They closed in around those digits, trapping them against the mercy of a tongue that slipped between and around them. Golden, feline eyes holding steady, Magnus watched every subtle shift of Alec's expression at the suckling of his fingers, occasionally drawing them further within. He adored every twitch, every gasp, and every unspoken longing they betrayed, but he kept his play short, releasing the fingers with a wide and knowing smile. Now Alec was biting his lip as well, the nearby flames highlighting the saliva that slicked his fingers, but neither man would enjoy their shimmer for very long before they moved beyond sight.

The pass of Alec's hand grazed Magnus' hardened length, but forewent this treasure for a more bountiful claim. As he felt Alec's hand near its prize, Magnus' heart began to race, his hunger worsening with every second he had to wait. It felt like an eternity before the first pad found his tight pucker. As it began its circling press, his head rolled to the side, eyes reflexively slipping shut from embarrassment in the face of such severe pleasure.

"...Don't?"

The yearning hanging from Alec's voice twisted his chest. He still wasn't used to just how much Alec seemed to bask in his eyes, still didn't quite understand how someone could find such beauty in them - but he knew Alec loved them, and that was all the reason he needed to ease them back open, allowing their slit pupils and otherworldly irises to gaze up at him, watery ecstasy and all.

Alec repaid the gift of those gem-like orbs with a relieved smile, and then a second finger that eased its way within Magnus. The pair initiated their steady back-and-forth shifting, slowly but surely convincing his entrance wider and wider. They worked tirelessly on, each gain pulling a pained gasp or needy cry from their conquest, until finally they reached the last knuckles of Alec's hand and found themselves unable to burrow any deeper. The grip about his fingers and sweat building upon Magnus' face presented Alec with a new thrill, and as soon as the Warlock caught his breath Alec was moving again, taking full advantage of what moisture remained upon his fingers to twist, pump, and writhe deep inside Magnus' ass.

Indeed, he thought he might very well grow addicted to each and every uneven "A-Ahh!" that choked through Magnus' desire-gripped throat - if not that, then surely the the wrinkle of his brow or the gape of his mouth or the shudder of those piercing eyes would be the final nail in his coffin. Even if that were the case, it didn't dissuade him from chasing every reaction he could coax out of Magnus, such was the rush they gave him. And really, Magnus was all too happy to give them. Despite being by far his least experienced partner, Alec was quickly proving himself to be among if not the most ardent. Skill and technique were things that could be taught, things that Alec had been quite eager to learn. But a flame was something that had to be tended, had to be fed and given constant, renewed life. Over the past year, Magnus had on more than one occasion expected it to wane, but here still Alec burned, ever brighter than before.

Wanting,  _needing_ to seize that brilliant ember, Magnus grabbed Alec by the back of his head. "A-Alec," he gasped, his other hand held adrift beside them, fingers poised. As Alec's face brightened above him, his movements slowing but never quite stopping, Magnus swallowed, and with some effort kept his pleasure restrained just enough to utter faint, desperate words. "I... want you..." Though marred by the occasional uneven breath, he managed a suggestive smirk, as though the flush inching above the collar of his shirt weren't giveaway enough of his arousal. A faint blue glow swelled into life about his outstretched hand, his fingers starting to weave the air in his palm. "May I?"

The hue framing Alec's sight had come to be something like Pavlov's bell, and knowing full well what it meant he pressed his lips together and tried his best not to nod too frantically. "Mmm," he murmured, lowering his face and capturing Magnus in a deep kiss. He felt his Warlock tremble at the steady withdrawal of his fingers, and distantly wondered if the faltering made it more difficult for Magnus to cast his spell. Whether or not it did, Alec soon felt the familiar, warm salve ease its way from hilt to head. The strangeness of something appearing from nothing still weirded him out a bit, but the convenience of the summoned lubricant outweighed the oddity and long ago convinced him to stop giving it too much thought. Regardless of the particulars, they'd employed the stuff time and time and time again, and its availability was solely responsible for a small handful of spur-of-the-moment romps.

Recalling those encounters brought Alec's goofy grin to its fullest - as soon as he felt he'd been fully coated, he held himself by the base of his cock and parted their trade of licks and nips to feed his heated breath directly into Magnus' ear. "Thank you," he whispered, pausing with just the moistened tip of his hood pressed to Magnus' hole so the Warlock could brace himself.

Magnus eagerly nodded, his spell-hand taking to clutching Alec's back now that it'd fulfilled its task. "Don't make me wait any longer," he begged, his grip of Alec's hair tightening, his features scrunched with anticipation.

Alec didn't need to be told more than once, already enticed by the tight pucker that twitched against his every adjustment. He at last found a suitable angle, then dug his knees into the carpet so he could push forward. The aid of Magnus' lube ensured a relatively smooth sink past his entrance, but it did nothing to ease the natural resistance of his muscles - that much was up to Magnus himself, and for that there was only so much even one so powerful as he could manage. Of course, Alec wasn't complaining, the pressure surrounding his dick and the occasional, ringed squeeze shooting small bursts of heightened sensation through the full of his body. From the grit of his teeth, to the heave of his chest, to the twitch of his limbs, Alec swam in the delight of Magnus' body, needing to claim every extra bit of progress as much as he needed air.

The slow but relentless pursuit brought with it a chorus of grunts and groans from both men, until at last Alec's lower abs pressed flush against Magnus. For the final inch, Alec's hand abandoned his loins in favor of claiming Magnus' waist, such that when he'd completed his initial burrow he could hold his beloved in a tight hug, face pressed to Magnus' neck and drinking his scent. Their chests rose and fell in rapid succession, their breaths broken into heavy pants. By stark contrast, the draw of their fingers remained light and tender, imparting what soothing comfort they could upon each other through sweet strokes and circling draws.

Though his lungs had recovered, Alec remained still, curled about Magnus like a protective shell. His eyes keenly watched the strain in Magnus' features, his hand eventually lifting to cup that captivating face and rub his thumb tenderly along its cheek. No matter how eager he felt, he dared not move until he was certain Magnus had fully adjusted, for fear of hurting him. Even when he felt the tenseness ease around his rod, just to be sure he checked in with a low murmur and soft kiss. "...You alright?"

Magnus' breathing had reached a steady rhythm, still roused but not nearly so sped as a moment prior. The question surfaced a smile through his strain, his head turning to encourage Alec with a loving nuzzle. "Yes," he whispered back, fingers brushing along Alec's spine. Knowing Alec would likely want something a bit more encouraging than that single word, he considered what else to say, his eyes meanwhile scaling what they could of Alec along the edge of their periphery. In this brief pause, he found the perfect way to express himself in the dangerously close loom of Alec's ear, a method he would employ with a devilish smirk.

" _A-Ah_!" Alec cried, the sharp pleasure-pain forcing his body to reflexively coil. The twitch jerked himself inside Magnus, eking a similar noise out of his devious Warlock. Despite the sound he made, Magnus closed his lips around the captured lobe rather than release his prize, and his ensuing suckling washed Alec in renewed desire. Alec's hands sought out bracing holds, one hooking upon Magnus' shoulder while the other found his hip. "Mng... So it's... l-like that, huh?" he gasped between trembles. Now fully assured Magnus was  _quite_ ready for him, his hands tightened upon their holds and he gave his lover a firm thrust. If not for the seductive cry it caused, he might have regretted how the motion at last freed him from Magnus' teeth.

From there, Alec built a slow and shallow rhythm, giving Magnus small breaks between each motion. Each one penetrated easier than the last, and the discomfort began to fade from Magnus' gasping voice until naught but euphoria remained. Without pain to hold him back, Magnus' hands began to clutch Alec tighter, his nails digging into Alec's skin and all but pulling harsher beats out of his lover. Somewhere in the love-drunk, incoherent mess of sounds spilling from his mouth, the words "yes" and "more" and "please" toppled beside utterances of Alec's name, not all of them in a language Alec recognized though he implicitly understood the gist of them.

As much more as he gave, so did Alec need. His hands no longer satisfied with their unassuming holds, they roamed in search of untended flesh, seeking out all of the special places they'd learned over the past year. Hips left unaided to continue their relentless piston, he made quick work of Magnus' shirt, exposing the broad, tight chest the proud Warlock kept hidden from all eyes but his. Like a serpent at last freed of its seasonal shed, his torso arched off of the opened garment, shadows whipping across his rolling muscles from the thrash of the nearby flames. Framed by discarded silk and highlighted with beaded sweat, nothing took Alec's breath away quite like Magnus' writhing body, a performance art that engaged and delighted each and every one of Alec's senses.

Between the dazed flits of his eyelids, Magnus caught glimpses of Alec's fire-licked face, a pining desperation playing across his features as the Shadowhunter strove to please him. Alec boasted his knowledge of Magnus' body with every mastered caress and tease of his most sensitive spots, some of which he'd forgotten about until Alec found and rekindled them. A part of him wondered if they'd responded more to the soul touching them than the touches themselves, but that same portion of his mind was far too drowned in lust-drenched moans for him to think too much on it. Raunchy state that Alec bound him in, Magnus would _much_  prefer to meditate on the messy brown hair that had taken to sweat-clumped locks, or the flashes of deep blue that occasionally shone whenever a distracted hand combed them back, or the way Alec's shirt clung to his torso in ways that tauntingly distorted as much as it revealed. His arms held captive by his sleeves, Magnus couldn't very well remove that cruel veil, but the mystery it provoked spurred him all the same - it kept him on the edge, never _quite_  sated, never _quite_  fulfilled, never _quite_  appeased... always and forever wanting _more_.

_I could devour you whole, Alexander Lightwood, and I still would not be done with you._

As Magnus spun upon this thought, Alec's pace billowed to peak, a frustration entering his impassioned grunts. "M-Magnus," he moaned, his hands halting their travels to latch onto Magnus' body like starved leeches. The pain in his voice was that of an addict whose willpower had run out, struggling to hold out just a little longer but thirsting for that final dose all the more for it. "I... I can't... !"

Magnus threw his hand about Alec's throat, dragging him closer to the ledge. "Do it!" he begged, yearning for what awaited him past Alec's restraint. His grip tightened, feeling Alec's vitality pulsing through his taut neck as much as through his pounding cock. His own neck craned as Alec raced, his other hand grasping a hand full of the carpet by his side. Knowing how much Alec loved them, knowing they'd sweep him across the finish line, he struggled to keep his eyes open and staring up at Alec through his desire, though he could hardly believe the urgent cries spilling out of his mouth. "Don't hold back. I need it, Alec... I need  _you_!"

That last beckoning proved to be just the encouragement Alec needed, the rapid drilling of his hips slamming to a sudden stop against Magnus' ass. Riding upon a cry soaked in lust, Alec's tightened balls unleashed rope after warm rope of cum, until fluid filled in what sparse space his cock left unoccupied. His hands gripped Magnus so tight he feared he might hurt him, so volatile were the spasms wracking his body. They held him in a twitching still, until by the time his orgasm released him all energy had drained from his body and he collapsed wearily into a possessive hug, his breath still shuddering though his length had already begun to wilt and withdraw.

Magnus smirked, holding his breathless and likewise speechless lover. The hot cum filling him sent a hunger emanating through him, keeping him teetering on the edge of oblivion. With Alec no longer watching him, he could at last allow his eyes to slip shut, his hand sliding beneath Alec's shifting body to finish himself off.

It would never reach its destination, a different set of fingers twining among them and pulling the hand away.

Magnus' eyes blinked open again, surveying Alec's stir. "Alec, I need to— _uhnn!_ " His voice cut off into a pleasantly surprised choke when a heated moisture enveloped his uncircumcised dick. The suddenness with which Alec had swallowed him scrambled his thoughts, and the tenacity of Alec's slithering tongue cast stars across his vision. From his reclaimed position upon his knees, Alec could slip his unoccupied fingers easily into the mess he'd made of Magnus' back door - although he'd emptied himself, he refused to be finished with that sweet pucker until he'd brought Magnus to the same blinding ecstasy he'd enjoyed, if not more.

It was a courtesy Magnus simply couldn't thank him enough for, both because no language possessed words enough and because his mind had temporarily lost its ability to form expressive thought. There was only the rise and fall of Alec's constricting mouth, the occasional punctuation of dangerous teeth, the slip-and-slide those devious fingers had made of his rear. It took only a few tight passes of Alec's lips against the ridge of Magnus' hood for his balls to clutch and his muscles to tense. "Alec...  _Alec!_ " he exclaimed, half in warning and half in immense gratitude, free hand clasping upon the back of Alec's head and gripping the Shadowhunter's tousled hair. The curl of his toes heralded the buck of his hips, and soon he was stuffing himself down Alec's throat just as Alec had done to his ass. The burst of rapture washed away what needling guilt he felt at unloading so unceremoniously upon the back of Alec's tongue.

To be fair, Alec wasn't exactly giving Magnus' delivery much else place to go, pressing his head as far down Magnus' cock as he could physically manage. He'd known what to expect, and had dropped his jaw to ensure he'd receive every last drop Magnus might offer him deep inside his mouth. His expression maintained a certain peace about it, even despite a slight gag, even going so far as to happily moan as he milked out the last of Magnus' fading erection.

That last little sound sent a final shiver through Magnus, his body collapsing in a drifting wake of nirvana. His pounding heart rushed blood through to his recovering lungs, a newfound exhaustion closing heavily in upon his eyes. Before they could quite close off, however, Alec's grinning face veered into view -  a violent flush claimed Magnus' face as he noticed the ripple of Alec's throat, and the tiny flick of his tongue across his lips. "You... ?"

Alec wove his arms around Magnus as he laid down. "Of course," he chuckled, nestling himself alongside his lover. "What else would I do with it?"

In spite of himself, Magnus allowed a faint purr to escape him, then took to gently doting upon Alec with light, fleeting strokes. "I hope the flavor wasn't  _too_ off-putting?"

Lifting back up onto his elbows, Alec coiled around to hang his head over Magnus, his stringy hair reminiscent of a weeping willow's swaying branches. "You want a taste?"

Magnus answered with a kiss, pulling Alec down to meet him. With both men worn and spent, their locked lips took on a more innocent nature than before, wanting only to enjoy in each other's embrace rather than to entice or tantalize. They shared in each other's joy, an immeasurable happiness that made the very air grow dense. It was so ubiquitous, in fact, Magnus swore he could feel it, packed so tightly within the room it pressed against his skin, and confined the breadth of his lungs, and lined the edge of his mind...

A sudden alarm shot him upright, eyes wide and frantically scanning the room.

Beside him, Alec frowned, slow to follow to an upright sit. "...Magnus?" he ventured. He, too, took to surveying their surroundings, but he hadn't the foggiest idea what to even look for. Still, it made him more than a bit self-conscious, and he began to retrieve their clothes and curl his legs closer toward him. "What's wrong?"

Magnus turned his head, though the flick of his keen eyes were rather pointless - the thing he sought could not be seen, but was rather felt. A presence, hidden and ominous, just out of reach. The distant paranoia of being watched, though there was nothing to suggest such was the case. Unconvincingly, Magnus shook his head as he regarded the young man beside him. "...Nothing. I thought I felt... I don't know. There's nothing there." Sensing Alec's doubt, he cupped Alec's face and gifted him with another kiss. "It's been a long day. Let's go home and wash up, hm?"

"Yeah. ...Magnus?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"I... I love you, Magnus."

"I love you too, Alexander."

* * *

Back on the other side of town, a long limousine pulled off the road into a lot littered with various piles of crates and barrels. The neon sign reading "JADE WOLF" shone brightly in the quiet night, its harsh light falling upon the tall, proud figure venturing past its threshold to inspect the intruding vehicle. Members of Luke's pack trailed close behind, curiosities piqued by the strange visitor but nonetheless ready to fight if deemed necessary.

Beside him, Maia took an inspecting sniff of the air, then snarled. "...Vampires."

Simon scowled from where he lingered by the door. "Um.  _Hey_?"

"Sorry," she muttered with a glance over her shoulder. Eyes trained back upon the limo, she leaned closer to Luke. "They don't look like any coven I recognize, though."

Luke frowned, arms folding across his chest. "Nor I." Looking to each side, he motioned to his fellows to hang back, then ventured forward to greet the strangers.

They'd parked a decent distance away from the Jade Wolf's doors, apparently not wanting to push their welcome. The first to exit was, as Maia'd predicted, a vampire, his features distinctly Japanese. He didn't so much as look their way, ignoring them altogether in favor of moving to the limo's back door. Meanwhile, even more curious, another suited man had surfaced, also Japanese though his scent was far different from the first man's.

Back by Luke's pack, Simon found hope in the oddity. "A werewolf! See? Vampires and werewolves can  _totally_ get along!"

The humor escaped Maia, the hairs starting to stand on the back of her neck at the sense of impending danger. "That's not all, Simon," she whispered urgently.

The rest of the pack had tensed as well, unsure what to expect as they watched a third man step out from the vehicle, this one emerging from the door held open by the vampire. He was clearly older than the other two, and just as obviously of higher position, though his features so closely matched the other two's it became clear all three were related. His jacket bore jeweled cufflinks, and his gait was aided by a polished rosewood cane capped off in bright, glimmering gold. A long, silk scarf hung from about his neck, and if Simon squinted he could barely glimpse black ink creeping out from the edges of his sleeves.

"...Yakuza?" Simon murmured, trying his best to contain his excitement in light of the situation's implied severity.

Potentially, it was even worse than he perceived.

"Yeah.  _Mundane_ Yakuza."


	8. Handlebars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations provided at end of the chapter, courtesy of KioneM. (Don't trust Google Translate or Translate.com, they're not entirely accurate.) The specifics aren't super important, they're just provided for a bit of extra context to the scene.

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLUX0y4EptA&index=8&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

Luke immediately halted when the elderly Mundane climbed out of the limousine, his arms dropping to his sides and his brow wrinkling in confused alarm. The man certainly didn't appear to be the other two's prisoner... Perhaps he didn't know they were Downworlders? A slim prospect, that - surely it wasn't by coincidence they'd pulled in to this particular lot.

The Jade Wolf's food was absolute  _shit_ , compared to at least ten other local offerings.

Uncertain how much the Mundane knew, Luke opted for a neutral approach, addressing the old man directly and trying his best to pay the vampire and werewolf escorts little mind. "Excuse me, sir, may I help you?" he asked, shifting to try and get a better look at the man's face.

The man took a couple languid steps forward, more to distance himself from the car than to meet Luke, hardly any weight placed upon the cane. The thing was more symbolic than anything else, apparently. Whether he knew the truth about the Jade Wolf's staff or not, his sharp and studious gaze pierced steadfast through the night, unabashed in their judicious survey. He took his sweet time of it, too, with not the slightest falter or doubt, so much so that Luke began to suspect he was delaying mostly to assert dominance over the situation. Though he'd be loathe to admit it, it kind of worked - Luke grew impatient, irritated by the cocky silence, and had to coach himself to remain just as unwavering.

At last, the man turned, motioning with two fingers for the vampire to lean closer. The vampire obeyed with picturesque servitude, bowing from the hip with his hands neatly folded low before his waist. The werewolf kept perfectly still as the Mundane whispered to the vampire, his attentions consumed with Luke and his pack - if he even saw Simon, not a single flinch betrayed any feelings he might have had about his presence.

After a short time, the Mundane finished, dismissing the vampire's ear with a negligent wave. The vampire nodded, then slowly returned to an upright stand and looked to Luke, face stony and emotionless. "Garozumi-san thanks you for your kind welcome," he replied with a thick accent, though he showed no signs of struggle with the English language. "He is hopeful for a mutually amicable relationship with the Graymark pack."

Luke frowned, turning to address the vampire directly. "So he knows, then?"

The question earned an audible laugh from Garozumi, and a reserved smirk from the werewolf. " _Inu wa orokamono no tame no watashi o toru._ 1"

The vampire enjoyed an amused scoff. "Yes, he does."

Luke's gaze narrowed upon Garozumi, finding it increasingly difficult to suppress his snarl. "This is the part where you explain why we don't drag the three of you before the Clave. I'm pretty confident they wouldn't go for this sort of thing."

Garozumi shook his head, on the verge of clicking his tongue at Luke and his pack. " _Kare wa sōteisugiru yo!_ Tashizaku-kun... _Shuujin wo motte kite._ 2"

The werewolf's face broke into an all-out grin, but none of them said another word to Luke and the others as he turned to make his way around to the trunk of the limousine. The trio's standoffish manner had long since started getting to Simon, subconsciously inching closer to Maia. "You know that guy's not  _actually_  translating everything properly? I mean, I have no idea what the boss guy really said, but there's no way all that came to just three English words."

It took visible effort for Maia to keep her eyes from rolling. "Simon. I know you're nervous... but, shut up."

"I'm just saying! I don't think—" His words cut off in a gag as a powerful, familiar scent hit him. His eyes went wide, and his hand reflexively grabbed the Jade Wolf's threshold so hard the wood splintered beneath his fingers.

"Simon?!" Maia cried, frantically glancing between him and the limousine. Though she was delayed in picking up the smell, she knew from his reaction alone what it was.

Only nephilim blood would affect him _that_ strongly.

The source fought against Tashizaku with all his might as the werewolf hoisted him out of the limousine's trunk. It brought out a threatening snarl as he fell to the ground, and then a sharp jab across his jaw. " _Damare_ 3!" Tashizaku yelled, studying the man's freshly bloodied face for any sign of further defiance. Once satisfied, he grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him back around the car, irritated glare falling on Luke. He held the intense stare without falter as he shoved his captive to the ground between them, where Luke and the others could get a good, clear look of him.

As most of them had come by now to suspect, the man was indeed a Shadowhunter, otherwise pale skin marred by thick black runes and long, crimson gashes, some of them fresher than others. His clothes hung in tatters where he'd been shot, slashed, and stabbed, the fabric pitching three or four shades darker around the holes from soaked blood. Even more had caked in his strawberry-blonde hair, matting it to his skull. For a moment, Simon tensed, taking a half-step back in fear that it was Jace - when the man lifted his face, however, he was relieved to find dark hazel eyes mounted in gruff, bristled features, though the smattering of bruises, a blatantly broken nose, and the gag wrapped taut through his mouth nixed any final notions anything other than a ritualistic beating had befallen him.

Luke's silence turned to a seething rage. "Maia!" he called, though he didn't dare turn his slowly warping eyes from the three yakuza. "Take this man—"

Lightning-fast, Tashuzaku and the vampire drew their handguns, sharp clicks cutting Luke off as they cocked and aimed the weapons directly at the Shadowhunter.

Luke bristled, moving a hand to the side to stay the pack he knew grew antsy with every held moment. "I see the Accords mean shit to you." From tone alone, he sounded like he was just seconds away from wolfing out. He gestured to the lot of them, patience waning. "I'm guessing you have a point to all this?"

Garozumi's regally lifted his nose and a light smile turned his face, satisfied with how the scene had developed. " _Sā,_ Katsubi-kun _. Wareware no teikyo wo teijishimasu._ 4"

The vampire nodded to the bruised and bloodied Shadowhunter. "We caught this  _tenshikuzu_ 5 sneaking around, thought he'd hunt down one of our own. Stubborn bastard wouldn't say much, but we asked around town..." For the first time all night, he showed a wide, toothy grin. "Word on the street is the Graymark pack takes rather kindly to Shadowhunters. I suppose that's to be expected of a repenting ex-Circle member, though..."

Luke's hands clutched into fists, but he held back. Ultimately, if he threw the first punch, the hammer would come down hardest on him and his pack - the Clave would like nothing more than to pin a dead Shadowhunter on him if they got the chance, no matter who _actually_ killed them.

"...so, here's our proposal. We've accepted the fact we won't get anything out of him, but that bitch hiding in your kitchen?" Katsubi smirked, noticing both Luke and Simon flinch. "...Well, we figure she'll take us to her Institute eventually, and we can settle everything directly. In exchange, you can do what you like with this one. Patch him up, drop him off at Central Park..." His face shifted, meeting Simon's terrified stare and sending him a knowing smirk. "...feed him to  _koumori-kun_ 6?" He shrugged, then returned his attentions to Luke. "We don't really care. We just want to make sure the New York Institute knows to keep their bothersome feathers out of JSTAR's affairs."

A thought pierced through Simon's overbearing fog, and for a moment it became easier to ignore the seductive allure of fresh, potent blood saturating the air around him. "JSTAR... That's MiMi-chan's label, isn't it?"

Maia turned a confused look over her shoulder. "Is that really what you're worried about right now?"

"She just had a concert the other night! Clary had to bail on me for some mission over at BaSin." He pouted, needing the distraction of the lighter conversation. "She'd been looking forward to it, too. Don't know when MiMi-chan will be in New York again." He noticed Luke had lifted an eyebrow at him, and he scowled. "What're you waiting for?! Of course we're not handing her over!"

Luke grinned, then turned back to the yakuza. "Sorry, Koumori-kun isn't hungry. We'll be holding on to our friend. If you want the Clave to have any sympathy for your company, though, you'll leave the Shadowhunter here with us anyway."

Garozumi scoffed, though he didn't seem surprised. "Ah, well," he muttered, dropping the show of speaking through Katsubi. His attentions dropped to a cell phone he pulled from his pocket, tapping its screen to begin making a call. As he began retreating back inside the limousine, he motioned to the Shadowhunter with his cane. "You can tell the police he showed up like that."

The old man's manner confused the Graymark pack, but Luke didn't let that stop him from rushing forward to retrieve the Shadowhunter, Maia close on his heels. Right as they took their first step, however, Katsubi and Tashizaku pulled their triggers, spraying round after round of bullets until they'd emptied both their cartridges across the Shadowhunter's back.

"No!" Luke yelled as he lunged, watching the man's face widen with anguished fear just a moment before all semblance of life snuffed out from his eyes.

Maia and the others finished transforming as Luke caught the mutilated corpse, taking to a mad dash towards the Katsubi and Tashizaku. Simon didn't really know what he could do, but he ran forward all the same, spurned on by the fact they'd just levied a fairly explicit threat against Clary. The two yakuza hardly seemed concerned, however, the quickness of their gait just as likely to appease their boss as to escape the Graymark pack. Thanks to his vampirism, Katsubi claimed the driver's seat and slammed his door shut just as Maia and two other wolves cleared the roof. Tashizaku delivered a sharp kick to the wolf that pounced on him, then a punch across Simon's face to match the one Simon aimed to his gut. He stumbled back a few steps, but that ultimately just helped him out - from there, he needed only fall back into the limousine's passenger seat and let Katsubi hit the gas. The squeal of their tires split the night as they pealed around in the lot, colliding mercilessly into a few more wolves before breaking back out onto the road.

Along the roar of their motor and the howls of the wolves, sirens swelled in the distance. "Hold back!" Luke commanded, intuitively realizing the cops were headed for them - that must have been Garozumi's phone call. Did he have contacts in the force, or had he filed just a simple citizen's report? Watching his pack get back upon their paws, Luke abandoned the Shadowhunter to the ground and stood up. "Get back inside!" he yelled, daring the reluctant Downworlders to defy him.

They snarled, but ultimately acquiesced, turning and darting back inside the Jade Wolf. Simon climbed back to a stand, still reeling a bit from Tashizaku's hit, then turned his worried furrow back towards the restaurant. To his relief, Clary's pale, gaping face stared out, framed by her fiery hair. Employing his enhanced speed, he swept right to her side and took her into his arms. "You're okay?"

He could feel her body trembling, but still she nodded. "I... I need to call Alec... !"

Luke had come upon the doorway, a firm look bearing down at her. "No. He and the others would just rush here, and those yakuza might have others stationed as lookouts. If they see any other Shadowhunters show up, they'll try and follow them back to the Institute." He knew Clary wouldn't like his words, but it was the truth. He looked over his shoulder at the fallen Shadowhunter. "There's nothing we can do for him now anyway. The cops will be here any second. We have to play Garozumi's game for now, tell them the guy hobbled in already riddled in bullets."

Clary scowled. "And you really think they'll buy that?"

With a heavy sigh, Luke shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "Who knows. I'd be surprised if Garozumi's pockets reach this far from home, but..." After a slight pause, he turned to Simon. "How's your Charming?" He was only half-joking.

"Ha ha, very funny," Simon muttered with a frown. Looking back at Clary, he gave her his best attempt at comfort. "We'll call Alec in the morning, okay? Besides, didn't you say he was attacked? He and Magnus are probably resting."

Clary lifted a brow at him. "Resting. Right."

"Alright, alright, you two," Luke groaned, shuffling them inside. Flashes of red and blue had begun to color the surrounding buildings. "Find a room and try to get some rest while I deal with this." As soon as he said that, though, he held up a finger for Clary to wait, then looked back at the Shadowhunter. "...You don't happen to recognize him, do you?"

As much as she wanted to help, Clary could only shake her head. "No clue. I've never seen him around the Institute, anyway."

"Hmm," Luke murmured, nodding. "Me neither, not since we moved to New York." That was all Simon and Clary would hear on the matter, the black-and-white cars of New York's finest pulling into the lot. Luke turned and pulled the door shut between them before the cops saw anyone else, hoping things would go quicker if it was just him.

Still, Clary and Simon peered through a nearby window, just in case it looked like Luke might need their support. Meanwhile, Clary softly murmured, "...MiMi-chan, huh?"

"I think so. JSTAR Productions? Weird, right?"

"...Yeah. Weird."

* * *

Alec sat at their table, staring into the milky-brown liquid stagnating in his mug. The slow, rhythmic stirring did little to disturb its serene surface, but served its purpose of consuming the spare cycles of Alec's mind. A darkness lingered at the edges, the sort he couldn't banish with a simple sword or arrow, and he feared if he gave his thoughts voice it might somehow become more real, more present.

Magnus' delicate sipping of his coffee conveyed a similar state, though his gaze fixated instead upon the tiny child quietly reading one of his many tomes. He felt the ringing in the air and pondered its implications, trying his best to peer through the haze and perceive the tapestry sprawled out before him. Unlike his lover, he refused to let it drift, knowing it was just as likely to saturate as to fade. "It was very irresponsible of us," he murmured, figuring it to be as good a place as any to start.

"...I know." Further silence stretched between them, and Magnus worried he'd have to pull teeth to get Alec to talk about it. Just as he was about to say something, though, Alec looked over to the child. "Do you regret it?"

"Of  _course_ not!" Magnus declared, abandoning his lean against the wall to sink into a chair beside Alec. He set his mug upon the table, not really all that interested in it anyway, and laid a hand upon Alec's back. "We both made that decision, Alexander. It's on both of us."

For the first time all morning, Alec met his gaze, one brow peaked. "I started it, and it only happened because of my..." His voice drifted, struggling to find the right word. "...sickness."

In a vie for levity, Magnus rolled his eyes. "Do you honestly believe I would have allowed things to progress if I hadn't been in full support of it? Besides, we had Catarina watching her." His seriousness returned before he continued, feline eyes fraught with concern. "And you're not sick. Whatever you do or don't feel about Liandra..." He choked up a bit, but concluded, "It's fine."

Alec's frustration swelled up again, turning away to watch Madzie. Magnus still didn't understand, but how could he blame him? Alec had so far utterly failed to accurately convey what was going on, in part because he didn't really know what was going on. Admittedly, an expansive history of denying nearly everything he felt didn't do his credibility any favors, but it hadn't stopped him from hoping Magnus would believe him when he said this thing was anything but "fine." His complaints weren't a call for help or comfort, they were a warning. But how could he rightly explain that if he didn't even know what he was warning  _about_?

Watching Madzie's rampant curiosity carry her through a book she really shouldn't have been able to comprehend for at least another couple years, a spark of inspiration brightened Alec's face. "You said you sensed something?"

Although unsatisfied by the results of his attempted reassurance, Magnus at least appreciated the continued discussion. For better or for worse, Alec seemed to prefer discussing the disturbance around them to his inner conflict. "I thought I had, but I told you - there wasn't anything there."

"Are you sure?"

To Magnus' surprise, Alec's look seemed imploring, and he began to suspect the young Shadowhunter was grasping for any excuse that might explain the odd dynamic that had begun to brew with Liandra. For a moment, he thought to continue arguing the point, but he stopped himself, instead offering a sympathetic sigh. "If it'd make you feel better, I can check again the next time I'm at the Institute. Put up a ward or two, just to make sure."

"It really doesn't make sense though, right?" The abrupt shift loosed Magnus' grasp of their topic, re-anchored only when Alec continued. "I mean, even Madzie aside, we  _never_ mess around like that with Clave reps visiting the Institute." Magnus opened his mouth - he, for one, never really minded what breed of incidental witnesses walked the Institute's halls - but Alec nipped it with a sharp look. "With good reason. The Clave disrespects me enough as it is without us throwing our relationship in their faces. They'd attack you in a heartbeat if they thought it'd get me to do what they want."

"Would it?" Magnus murmured, brow furrowed.

Alec shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked back at Madzie. Magnus could yell over and over not to give in to such threats until he was blue in the face and it wouldn't change a damn thing. "The point is, I think you  _did_ sense something, and I think it's possible that 'something' is what kept us at the Institute."

Mostly out of support for his partner, Magnus took a moment to _truly_  consider the theory, and slowly found himself buying into it more and more. "It... _could_  also explain what's going on with Jace, depending on what it is. Something that affects people on an emotional level... ?"

Seeing the wheels turning in Magnus' head brought a relieved smile to Alec's face. Perhaps, finally, Magnus would take the issue with Liandra seriously? He got up and followed Magnus' retreat into the other room, bee-lining to one of the flat's many bookshelves. As they passed, Madzie slapped her book shut and looked up at him. "Daddy, I finished. Can I watch TV now?"

Alec stumbled to a stop, blinking at the child in a mild stupor. "Uhh..." he hesitated, warily glancing to where Magnus had disappeared around the corner. The kid learned right quick which of the two of them was the easiest to get things out of, not that it was all that difficult to guess. "What did Papa say?" he asked, loudly enough for Magnus to hear.

"What page did you reach?" Though distracted, his tone remained no less firm.

"Three hundred and fourty-seven!" she chirped back, beaming with pride. Already knowing his follow-up question, she recited, "Although not commonly practiced in the presence of land dwellers, the merfolk's language contains inherent magical properties, particularly with respect to various aspects of the world's oceans. The language is known to be capable of influencing everything from tide levels to aquatic migration patterns to meteorological conditions. In the year 1753, the language—"

A finger snap resounded from the other room, followed by a billow of colored smoke revealing a television set arranged neatly upon the main room's console table, already on and loudly playing the last channel it'd hosted.

Madzie forgot all about Alec as she turned and ran to select her channel, squealing with delight. "Thank you, Papa!"

Alec chuckled with a shake of his head, then turned to join Magnus in the other room. He found the man irritably returning a book to its shelf while scouring a litany of other jeweled and gilded spines. "Bound to ask about them sooner or later," he was muttering under his breath. "May as well start preparing her for it."

"There's a grotto a few miles outside of Idris," Alec softly remarked, trying his best to follow along with Magnus' rifling though he couldn't decipher most of the texts and diagrams coming under scrutiny. "We could take her for her birthday?"

A sudden pause stilled Magnus' hands as he looked up at Alec. "That's rather short notice, isn't it? Is there still time to make the arrangements?"

It was one of the few things Alec could take pride in bringing to their home's dynamics. He grinned, giving Magnus' shoulder a small squeeze. "I'll call Mom later and see what I can do." Sensing a doubting remark about his mother upon the tip of Magnus' tongue, he quickly changed the conversation with a nod towards the plethora of disarrayed books. "Find anything?"

With a heavy sigh, Magnus snapped the book in his hands shut and slid it back upon the shelf. "No. A few pages from the Cubi arts of seduction, but nothing quite so permeating or... mild." He noticed Alec was giving him a look, and he blushed. "It was one of the more promiscuous phases in my life."

Alec sighed and shook his head. "Anyway, nothing that could help us?"

Magnus' face softened, wanting to reassure his boyfriend but lacking the insight as to how. "I'll figure it out, Alexander. I promise."

It wasn't much, but it was enough. A genuine albeit small smile crossed Alec's features. "You always do," he replied, leaning forward to drop a light peck on Magnus' cheek. His hand slipped down Magnus' arm to claim a loose hold of his hand before he led the way back out to the sitting room. He'd wanted to drop into the couch with Magnus and enjoy the rest of their morning in peace, but the scene playing across the television dashed such hopes.

Magnus let go of his hand and hurried forward, reaching for the remote. "Madzie! We've told you before, no news broad—"

"Wait!" Alec seized Magnus' wrist before he could aim the remote, eyes wide and transfixed. The only explanation he offered was a small nod to the TV, too focused on listening to the castor to say anything.

In lieu of changing the channel, Magnus wriggled free and hoisted Madzie up into his arms. She'd still be able to hear the TV, but at least she wouldn't bear further witness to the bleak scene they described.

"I'm sorry, Papa," she mumbled, the sincerity thick in her voice. "They were talkin' about MiMi-Chan..."

He hushed her softly, his arms subconsciously holding her tighter against him as he listened, his hand preciously keeping her tautly-braided head pressed to his own.

"NYPD requests that all citizens report any information they may have regarding associates of Mr. Everdale, so they can be brought in for questioning." The reporter stood in a neat suit with a modest blouse and pencil skirt. Wind whipped her stubbornly styled hair across her face, fighting against what must have been half a can of hairspray. "Not much is yet known about the attack on Madison Square Garden," she spoke into her mic, "but police suspect Mr. Everdale was not operating alone. Thankfully, MiMi-Chan and her support team released the following statement this morning, confirming her safety and intent to continue her US tour."

Magnus took advantage of the brief transition to whisper, "That's the Jade Wolf, isn't it?"

Alec nodded, but remained silent. A million other questions zipped through his mind, every reported detail spurring more questions than they answered. That he recognized the victim's surname was enough to mark him as a Shadowhunter, but he couldn't for the life of him pinpoint where exactly he'd heard the name before. Not that it really mattered - regardless of that, it likely wouldn't explain why a Shadowhunter had been gunned down, of all things. Cut through? Sure. Dismembered? Absolutely! Reduced to a pile of ash? Why not. But shot? Not even other Shadowhunters opted for guns over other tools of the trade and their innate abilities. A Mundane, then?

A young girl flickered onto the screen, seated between a pair of suited men. She stood out between them, her wardrobe evoking what he imagined a Mundane Easter Egg factory's supply room to look like. He couldn't think of a color that  _wasn't_ represented somewhere on her, all of them a light pastel of course, but he had to admit he kind of liked her contacts. They reminded him of Magnus... Idly, he wondered if that's why Madzie had taken such a liking to the pop idol.

" _Ohaio gozaimasu_!" she squealed, instantly reminding Alec why he'd insisted Magnus be Madzie's outlet for All Things MiMi-Chan. "Thank you, all my lovely Fishies, for expressing your concern for my safety!"

Madzie squirmed in Magnus' arms. Reluctantly, he allowed her to twist around and see the broadcast, figuring it was fine now that the crime scene was gone. Plus, he wanted to see her bright smile. "Glub glub!" she giggled at the television, waving even though she knew MiMi-Chan couldn't see her. For reasons neither man wanted to understand, "glub glub" was apparently the Very Official Greeting shared by all "Fishies."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "I don't see how anyone falls for that accent," he whispered to Alec, turning his head to keep his words out of Madzie's earshot. "It's  _horridly_  fake."

Alec shrugged, still watching the announcement though he highly doubted she'd say anything that would actually help.

"Not to worry - MiMi-Chan is  _daijoubu_! None of my friends were hurt, either, and in fact have been working real hard to make sure MiMi-Chan can safely continue the tour! If you have anything you think might help, JSTAR kindly requests that you speak with the NYPD.  _Arigato_!  _Mata ne_!"

As the clip concluded, Magnus quickly turned Madzie away again, but to his relief the feed returned to the anchor desks rather than the scene of the crime. A picture of Luke hovered beside the anchor's head, and the words _Suspected Garden Assailant Found Dead at Jade Wolf Restaurant_  adorned the bottom of the screen. Magnus turned to say something to Alec, no longer interested in anything the news was reporting, but found his partner had disappeared - back into the bedroom, by the sounds of things. With an apologetic sigh, Magnus set Madzie down, a swift motion dashing any hopes Madzie might have held about continuing to watch the news. "Papa will be right back, okay?"

Alec had just finished rummaging through their room by the time he arrived in the doorway, thoroughly disgruntled. "Another reason we could stand to be a little more careful at the Institute," he muttered, hands patting down his pockets. Seeing Magnus' confusion, he explained with a resigned sigh, "Phone must've slipped out."

A rampant blush colored Magnus' cheeks as the scene replayed behind his eyelids. His inner thighs could still feel Alec's hips sliding against them, and the memory set a brief flutter to his heart. "...Sorry."

Alec scoffed, regarding Magnus with a crooked smile. "I'm not." He reached forward to hold Magnus by his shoulders and deliver an innocent kiss upon his lips. "Not about that, anyway," he clarified before squeezing past Magnus and towards the foyer.

Magnus knew what was coming, a deft hand plucking Alec's discarded jacket from a chair and holding it out. "To the Jade Wolf?"

After unsuccessfully searching for his jacket, Alec turned around and returned Magnus' smirk with a grateful smile. "Yeah," he replied as he returned to Magnus' side, hands moving to retrieve the garment.

Swift on his toes, Magnus shifted just enough to catch Alec's hand in one of the jacket's sleeves, then circled his Shadowhunter in a series of graceful steps to finish pulling it up Alec's arms and onto his shoulders. "Good luck. I hope it doesn't amount to much... Madzie misses her Daddy."

Alec couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I'm pretty sure she prefers Papa anyway." His hands slipped around Magnus' waist to pull him into a close hug, and he stole an extra minute to feel the brush of his cheek and breathe in the scent of his cologne. "But, I'll try to keep it short. For you." He captured what would have been a dreamy sigh in another kiss, then slowly, reluctantly pulled away.

The importance of Alec's work convinced Magnus to let him go, a hand snapping beside him to pull a tall portal into existence. It predictably drew the attention of the little girl in the other room, squeezing in a little wave and receiving a wide grin in return just before Alec stepped through the swirling, purple vortex. The minute he passed, it collapsed upon himself, freeing Magnus back to the whims of the small child beside him. "Alright, my little Gumdrop!" he merrily replied, dropping down to Madzie's level to share her smile. "Papa belongs to you, now. How shall we spend the rest of this delightful morning?"

* * *

"Damn it, Alec, answer your phone!"

With an exasperated sigh, Jace tried the number one more time, only to eventually hear the same uninterested message for the billionth time. " _Hi, you've reached Alec. Leave a message._ "

He shook his head and looked up at Izzy in defeat. "Nothing. I don't know what—"

"Mr. Herondale!"

They both glanced in the direction of the young voice and spotted Naia running towards them, hands clasped close to her chest. Jimmy hurried close on her heels, Liandra stalking after them with a proud but swift gait. The sight immediately made Jace and Izzy tense - it didn't help when Naia stopped beside Jace and help up her hands, presenting Alec's phone upon her palms.

Jace eyed the suspicious offering. "Thanks," he murmured, trying his best to restrain the darts he turned towards Liandra.

"We heard the ringing coming from Alec's office," the uptight woman replied, her expression placid and unreadable as always. "Of course, we knocked first, but when no response came I had Jimmy pick the lock."

Izzy turned a lifted brow to Jimmy. "You're a lockpick?"

Jimmy crumpled under the look, inching subconsciously closer to Naia. "I... We... were worried..." He seemed unsure of himself, his internal struggle making Izzy less inclined to believe him.

Jace quickly looked between them all, then turned and slipped Alec's phone into his back pocket. "Well, whatever. I guess we know why he's not answering, at least." He wove his hand across the table's hologram, swiping aside a few profiles he'd pulled up.

Liandra frowned, recognizing more than a few of the faces. "Shadowhunters?" she inquired, stepping up beside them. "Looking for someone in particular?"

"You haven't heard?" Izzy asked, unable to mask her disbelief. "Someone was gunned down last night at the Jade Wolf. Clary called this morning, said it was a Shadowhunter." With a sigh, she turned and gestured doubtfully at the profiles Jace scrolled through. "We can't find him, though. The morning news just identified him as 'Adam Everdale,' but the last record we can find of that family is ten years old."

"Odd," Liandra remarked. She didn't sound nearly as intrigued by it as she should have. Before either of them could question it, though, she was already turning to Jace. "You're off to investigate, then? Would you like a hand?"

"Nah, Clary's already there." Belatedly, he remembered they were supposed to be investigating the three of them, and shot a sideways glance towards Izzy. "...Though, if Jimmy and Naia want a little field exposure..." He hated the idea of using them as bait, but maybe their presence would draw out Cyd and the Silver Freaks. Spinning around and sitting back on the tables edge, he spread his hands and specifically addressed the twins, face beaming. "Waddya say? You guys wanna help us investigate a murder?"

Their faces brightened, while Liandra stiffened. "I really don't think—"

"Actually, Liandra," Izzy interjected, catching on, "I could use your help around here."

The remark surprised Liandra and Jace both, though behind Liandra's back Jace was mouthing a silent "thank you." Liandra's brow rose. "You could?"

"Yeah!" Shit, now she had to come up with an excuse. "I was... thinking I'd check out what's left of the Café au Coeur, see if there's any clues about who released those demons." Technically, she  _had_ been considering it, but there'd never been any actual plan to. But, if she could get Liandra to betray some kind of hidden knowledge about what happened at the café, it just might give her the start she needed to investigate Liandra's ties to the demonic Shadowhunters. "I figure, being such a high-ranking hunter of the Clave, you might have some insight as to what I should look for... ?"

It was one of those rare moments the Clave's low opinion of their competency actually benefitted them. Jace smirked, rolling his eyes from where Liandra couldn't see him - if she had  _any idea_ how much Izzy excelled at this precise sort of thing, she'd call the bullshit mission in a heartbeat.

As it stood, Liandra offered a simple smile. "Alright, then. I'm happy to do what I can." Slowly, she peered over her shoulder to the twins, the pair of them wilting under her dominated stare. "You may go with Mr. Herondale, but under  _no_ circumstances are you to endanger yourselves, even if he or Miss Fray find themselves in dire straits. Understood?"

Obediently, the pair nodded, gazing up at Liandra with wide, dark eyes. "Yes, Ms. Thistlebrook." The unison of their voices struck both Jace and Izzy as odd, though neither could quite pinpoint why. Something about it seemed flawed, though the whole thing had been numbingly normal. Something just didn't... _fit_  the way it should.

Liandra didn't appear wholly satisfied with their response, but it'd have to do. In the first show of real emotion, at least that Jace had witnessed, the woman fixed a sharp glare upon him. "It'll be your head if anything happens to them, Mr. Herondale."

He threw one of his winning, cocky smiles, almost daring her to actually answer his question. "What could possibly go wrong?" Knowing he wouldn't get one, he nodded to the twins and headed for the front door. "C'mon, kids. You two good with motorcycles?"

He obviously tried Liandra's patience. As she spun on her heel to yell after him, Izzy quickly reached out and grabbed her arm. "He's joking." _Probably._  Letting Liandra go, she put on as warm a smile as she could manage, given queasiness rising within her. "You ready to go? It's actually not that far from the Jade Wolf, so we can meet up with them when we're done if we need to." She shrugged, then added on, "Or vice-versa, if Jace gets sick of the twins."

Liandra hardly seemed amused, ignoring her remark completely. "Actually, if I could make a quick phone call? I should let the Clave know I've approved Jimmy and Naia for field training." She offered a thin smile. "You know. Just in case."

"Of... Of course!" Izzy replied, swallowing her swelling suspicions. "I'll just. Uh. Wait for you by the door...?"

"Perfect." Not letting Izzy get another word in edge-wise, she turned on her heel and strutted off, already dialing a number into her cell. "I won't be long, Miss Lightwood!"

Izzy glanced warily after her, but moved to the foyer to wait, as promised. Of course, that wasn't _all_  she did. As she moved, she stealthily plucked her stele from her jacket's inside pocket, her other hand making a show of raking through her long, flowing hair. It tumbled to one side of her face, creating the perfect veil to hide the drawing of a small rune behind her ear. She winced first at the fading pain, then at the delayed readjustment to the room's increased volume. It took a moment for her to pinpoint Liandra amidst the bustling Shadowhunters. By the time she finally zeroed in on the woman's characteristically rigid voice, she caught only the call's final handful of words... but they were enough.

"... of your sight. The Blights are sure to show."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> 1- "The Dog thinks me a fool."  
> 2- "He presumes so much! Tashizaku... Show him the prisoner."  
> 3- "Shut the fuck up!"  
> 4- "Go ahead, Katsubi. Present our offer."  
> 5- Made-up slang from the words for "angel" and "trash," ie "angel trash."  
> 6- bat-boy


	9. The Devil Within

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3UuqCN1sQs&index=9&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

Yellow caution tape ringed the destroyed café, though that hardly stopped Izzy and Liandra from squeezing between the strands. They plucked their way around the door dangling from a single hinge and through the rubble half-barricading the threshold, careful to not disturb the destruction lest it cascaded further. The pair of them waved their hands to banish the dust they kicked up, their intermittent coughs undoing most of any progress they made. "By the Angel, you guys did a number on this place," Liandra remarked, honestly not sure if she was upset or impressed.

"It wasn't like this when we left," Izzy noted, throat hoarse from the coughing. She squinted to prevent stray specks from landing in her eyes, one arm raised to shield her gaze from the early morning light filtering through the haze. "For one, the door still worked."

Liandra moved delicately past her, stepping over the storm of splintered tables, frayed linens, and scattered cutlery. "If that's true, someone really doesn't want us finding something.

"That, or the locals  _really_ wanted the leftover pastries." Izzy scowled. "And what do you mean, 'if' that's true?"

A negligent wave accompanied Liandra's exaggerated sigh. "Ms. Lightwood, I'm not an idiot. I know you and your friends don't trust me, Mr. Herondale least of all." There was something aggravating about the way Liandra insisted on using their family names, though Izzy supposed it matched with the rest of her. Everything about Liandra screamed rules, structure, discipline... maybe that's what ticked her off about it. "I understand, though," she idly remarked as she continued her survey of the room. "Your Institute has been through a lot. It's only natural that you would develop a defensive reaction towards unexpected guests..." She glanced over her shoulder with an arched brow. "Particularly those from the Clave."

Izzy almost couldn't keep the daggers from her stare, and had the room's obscuring gloom to thank for managing it. "It'd be a lot easier if you were more forthcoming with us," she replied, her tone even and measured.

Liandra responded with only a nod and a shrug, denying nothing. Still, nor did she do anything to ease Izzy's concerns - as she returned to her search, she seemed perfectly at peace with any and all criticism, and wholly uninterested in Izzy's opinion of it all. Instead, something on the floor appeared to catch her attention, and in a somehow stiff movement she dropped down to a crouch, one hand reaching out to trace the edges of whatever she'd found. "...Remind me, what was it that attacked Alec? A Ravener, right?"

Izzy's stomach knotted as she realized Liandra was examining the floor near where their table had been... the spot where Mar and Daraiya had held Magnus hostage. "Uh... Yeah..." It took some effort, but she kept her pace casual as she crossed over to the Clave elite. A sink of her gaze confirmed her suspicions: there were small holes in the floor, like someone had trouble decided where to hammer in a nail before ultimately giving up entirely.

Or like a Mantid had danced across the floor.

As she rose back to her feet, Liandra offered only a small and unconvinced, "Mm." She made no show of even pretending to believe Izzy, instead pocketing whatever was going through her head as though to throw the presence of her secrets in Izzy's face.

It frustrated Izzy more than she cared to admit. Nearing her wit's end, she hurried after Liandra, a hand reaching out to grab the woman's arm. "Look, Liandra—"

"Ms. Thistlebrook," she corrected, a sharp yank freeing her arm.

It earned her an irritated sigh. "Ms. Thistlebook. We want to trust you, we really do. If we've learned anything from what happened a year ago, it's that we're stronger when we stand together -  _all_ of us. Just... tell us what's really going on, so we can help."

If any expression manifested upon Liandra's face, it was too distilled to perceive, tightly concealed behind a stare so glassy Izzy wondered if Liandra were even human. "Perhaps I was unclear, Ms. Lightwood. My purpose here is not to make friends. It is not to be liked, or even trusted. My interests begin and end with my charge, and whether or not you support those interests is relevant only so far as whether or not you affect them. To that end, in thanks for the hospitality your Institute has shown us and as warning to guide your future decisions, I will remind you of this: that my interest's are the Clave's. To stand against me is to stand against the Clave, a position I recognize is rather familiar to you and yours but which, I must emphasize, has its consequences." The steely smile returned to her lips, neither arrogant nor taunting but simply sterile. "I hope I am adequately understood?"

Izzy pursed her lips. At the very least, she'd confirmed that Liandra held no illusions about being on anyone's "good" side, so she and the others perhaps didn't need to be so elusive about it. By that same token, she knew they'd be hard-pressed to get anything out of the woman, and if ever they  _did_ find themselves in Liandra's way it was explicitly clear just whose side the Clave would fall on.

Big surprise.

Liandra took the endured silence as begrudging acknowledgement, if not reluctant acceptance. Leaving it at that, she turned away from Izzy and continued on her way, heading towards the giant hole in the wall. "The kitchen's on the other side, correct?"

It was as though the previous few minutes hadn't happened at all. "Yeah," Izzy muttered, blinking as she returned to pace and hurried after Liandra, kicking a stray brick aside as she went. "That's where the Scorpios came through."

"I see," she murmured, eyeing the wreckage thoughtfully. "...The one  _Magnus_  subdued, correct... ?"

Izzy hesitated, coming to a sudden stop behind Liandra by the giant hole. Truth be told, she couldn't quite remember what exactly Jace told the medical team, and there was a non-zero chance Liandra was trying to make her slip up. "I mean, there was only one," she retorted with an extra layer of sarcasm, pretending she'd missed the actual question.

Liandra didn't seem convinced, but she didn't push the matter, turning and stepping through the terrorized drywall. Izzy kept searching the area as she followed - this was the first time she'd gotten a good look of this end of the café, after all. She needed something,  _anything_ , that might help her and the others track down Cyd, Mar, and Daraiya. A strand of hair, a piece of fabric, a drop of blood... As she scoured the walls, floor, and surrounding rubbish, she frowned, her adjusted eyes at last picking up on some of the chaos' finer details. The marks Liandra spotted littered this area as well, too small to have been the Scorpios' tracks. They didn't stick to the floor, however - they decorated the walls and fallen tables as well, and not just those places Daraiya had landed while fencing the gargantuan demon.

A call from the kitchen interrupted Izzy's developing curiosity. "Ms. Lightwood? I found something which may be of interest."

As intrigued by Liandra's show of teamwork as by whatever clue she'd found, Izzy made quick work of crossing over into the kitchen. It took her a moment to re-adjust to the lighting, as Liandra had apparently ignited a shard of Witchlight to aid her investigation. "What is it?" she asked, slowly opening her eyes again and blindly reaching out for the odd, black blur resting in Liandra's palm.

"You haven't seen one before?" Liandra asked, the shadow of a scoff lining her inquiry. Whether she recognized Izzy couldn't see just yet or not, she didn't appear to care. "It's a Spell Card. They're exceedingly difficult to make, as a single card will drain a Warlock of all their magic stores, and are thus particularly rare. Most Warlocks don't find them to be worth the effort."

"Not even to turn a profit?" Izzy asked, at last able to perceive and pick up the object. Upon closer inspection, she confirmed that it was indeed a card - or, the charred remains of one, anyway. One corner had burned away completely, and a black scorch consumed nearly the entire "L" that had been left behind. Certainly under the current conditions, it was impossible to tell what the card had once looked like, beyond a vague idea of its size and shape.

Meanwhile, Liandra had begun chuckling, a sound so alien that it unnerved Izzy. "You've really never even heard of a Spell Card, have you?" Oddly enough, it looked like a certain wistfulness had entered Liandra's gaze, or perhaps an affirmed sense of superiority. "They can't be sold - or, at least, you'd be hard-pressed to find a potential buyer." She enjoyed Izzy's awaiting silence just a bit more before finally explaining, "The spell remains tied to its creator's blood. No one else would be able to activate it anyway."

Izzy frowned, turning the card over in her hands. "So then why bother?" More thinking out loud than actually asking, she looked up and continued, "It'd need to be something really inconvenient to cast in the first place. Something a Warlock would anticipating needing to cast later."

Something brushed against her hand. Looking away from the card, Izzy blinked in surprise at the sight of a small, plastic bag Liandra was holding out for her. "Here. You can probably analyze it better back at the Institute..." A smirk crossed her face. "...or show it to Magnus and see if he recognizes it. If memory serves, he was  _quite_ tired that night, was he not?"

Suspicions flared again, and even as Izzy took the bag and slipped the card inside she jabbed back, "It's  _not_ Magnus'. He doesn't use Spell Cards."

Liandra rolled her eyes, then stepped around Izzy to make her way back to the café's entrance. "I don't think it's his, either, but..." She shrugged. "Even if you'd known him your whole life, that would hardly amount to a single year in his. Don't presume to know him simply because he's taken a fancy to your brother."

If there was some other point to what Liandra was saying, Izzy didn't know what it was. She angrily zipped the plastic bag shut and stuffed the evidence into an inside pocket. "We'll see," she hissed, certain now more than ever that Liandra was their enemy. Well, fine - she just had to get back to the Institute, analyze the Spell Card, and prove Magnus had nothing to do with it. Even if it didn't make any difference to Liandra, it would at least give Izzy some kind of accomplishment, a sense of righteousness that friends and family and trust in each other reigned supreme against Liandra's rigidly dichotomous approach to everything.

Still, the back of her mind contemplated Liandra's motivations. If she didn't think it was Magnus, why bother casting the suspicion? After showboating her separated relationship from the New York Institute, why bother giving Izzy the card? From the way the woman so nonchalantly handed it over, Izzy couldn't help but wonder if Liandra already knew who the card belonged to at best, or was planting evidence against Magnus at worst.

The only way she'd get any answers was to analyze that card. "Alright, I guess that's all we're going to get from this place," she remarked as they squeezed back out into the morning sun. She hesitated, watching Liandra as she extracted and checked her phone. She tensed, recalling the snippet of conversation she'd gleaned back at the Institute. "...Did you want to go meet up with Jace and the twins?"

Liandra smirked, the most potent display of emotion Izzy recalled seeing of her to date. "No, that's alright. I'm confident we'll reunite soon at the Institute."

* * *

Alec did his best to ignore Jace's look, eyes averted and hand outstretched to receive his phone. The low mutter of his "thanks" did nothing to obscure his embarrassment, Jace smirking and Luke rolling his eyes. "Of course! What are parabatai for?" Jake grinned. Then, with a wink, "Tell Magnus I said 'hi'?"

The name finally got Alec glaring in Jace's direction, only then noticing the two tiny faces peering up at him from behind Jace's legs. "O-Oh. Uh. Hi?" He was certain his usually tanned cheeks resembled tomatoes beside his wide eyes. The intensity of the state he lifted back at Jace said everything he had to express: _I'm going to murder you._

His parabatai's cackling grin delivered the usual response. _You can damn well try._

Clary emerged soon thereafter, throwing open the front door to the Jade Wolf and waving them in. "Hey! Come on in. Either of you hungry?" Belatedly, she noticed Jimmy and Naia, just as surprised as Alec had been though for completely different reasons. "Ah, hey there! I... hope you two like Chinese food... ?"

They weren't so much as looking in her direction, still transfixed by Alec to the point of extreme discomfort. More than a little unnerved by it, Alec pushed his way past Jace, only distantly guilty for how intently he ignored Jimmy and Naia. "Thanks, Clary, but we have  _work_ to do."

Jace knew that last bit was directed at him, and he rolled his eyes. He jogged a bit to catch up with Alec, putting a little distance between them and the twins. Grabbing Alec by the elbow, he whispered lowly, "You wanna find those freaks and make them pay, right? If they're really so concerned about Gemini, there's no  _way_ they'll stay hidden."

Alec glanced sideling at his parabatai, completely unconvinced luring them out to a wolf den was a good idea. He'd been about to say something to that effect when they reached the door, but a small tug on his shirt replaced his retort with a surprised flinch.

"You... know Magnus... ?"

Jace snorted, stumbling past Alec and Clary with a hand over his mouth in a half-hearted attempt to mute his amusement. Alec stared at them, completely stunned. He couldn't say for sure which of the two of them had spoken, but felt certain the curiosity was shared anyway. Beside him, Clary filled in the silence. "Erm... Yeah... Yeah, he... Magnus is a... friend of ours... !"

Which,  _technically_ , was true, though admittedly mostly only because of Alec's particular association with the Warlock.

He left it at that, turning to storm into the Jade Wolf, but no amount of cold shoulder dissuaded the twins in the least. "Can he summon demons? Does he really have cat eyes? How tall is he? Isn't he like a million years old? Is it true he sparkles, even at night? What's his favorite spell? Does he smell nice?" The rapid-fire questioning followed Alec the entire way to where Jace desperately tried to silence his laughter on a glass of water, rebounding between both children faster than either could actually finish each inquiry.

"Yeah, Alec," Jace snickered while they carried on. "Does he smell nice? I've always wondered that about good ol' Magnus Bane!"

If they were outside, Alec's hands would already be at Jace's neck. "Shut—"

" _Bane_?!" the twins squealed, their voices at last reaching full alignment. "So you really  _do_ know him? It's not some other 'Magnus'? What other 'Magnus'  _would_ it be? It's  _gotta_ be—"

" _Enough_."

The twins jumped, whirling and huddling together behind Jace as if doing so hid them from view. Apparently, as frightened as they were by the tall, muscular man, so to were they fascinated, their wide, dark eyes slipping over him head-to-toe. They kept whatever went through their minds to themselves, taking the single-word warning to heart.

It made Luke feel kind of bad, so the imposing stance melted away soon enough upon a sigh and shake of his head. "Maia?" he asked, turning to find her. "Would you mind getting them set up in the corner booth?"

Maia grinned, plucking two coloring pamphlets and sets of crayons from under the restaurant's host stand. "Sure thing, Luke." As she walked toward the booth, she wove the twins over with the pamphlets, doing what she could to entice them away from Jace and Alec's table. "You guys like to color?"

The two continued to stare at her, dumbfounded, until Jace moved his knee to give each of them a light nudge. "Go on, it's alright. We're just gonna talk about grown up stuff for a bit, okay?"

They hesitated a moment more, then warily, silently inched their way over towards Maia, their manners still curious but unsure. They took the crayons Maia handed them into their tiny hands and turned them over, carefully examining them for some clue about what they were for, and it was at that point Maia realized, "...Wait, have you two never colored before?" Where the question might have earned her a hurt whimper from a child's reminder that they were different, the twins gave her only a continued blank silence, in that receiving their answer - not only had they never colored before, they didn't even know what "coloring"  _was_ , certainly not enough to know what they'd missed anyway. She smiled kindly upon them, her heart going out to them as she slid into the booth and patted the seat beside her. "Come on, I'll show you. It's fun!"

Relieved as he was to see the twins respond to Maia's encouragement, the whole thing still weirded Luke out. "They always act like that?" he whispered under his breath, one brow raised.

Alec groaned, still rubbing his temple to help himself get through his embarrassment. "I don't think I've heard them utter that many words in all the time we've known them."

"That, while concerning, isn't what I was talking about." Luke gestured in their direction as he slid onto the booth beside Jace, Clary taking the seat beside Alec. "They're mimicking each other. Is it like a game or something? To confuse you guys?"

To be honest, neither Jace nor Alec had noticed, and they both turned to look. Sure enough, even though both twins were still staring intently at Maia, their hands were moving in perfect sync, drawing their chosen crayons across their coloring pamphlets. They felt certain the resulting pictures looked exactly the same, aside from each child's choice of color. "Huh." Jace jabbed his thumb their way, shooting Alec a particular look he'd long since grown used to. "See? Told you. They were faking it."

Clary frowned, glancing between the two boys. "Faking? Faking what?"

Alec wove his hand. "I'll explain later. Tell us about this 'Everdale' guy. Shadowhunter?"

"Yeah. He was covered in runes, but I don't think I've ever seen him before." Clary reached into her jacket's pockets and pulled out a stele and the sleeping hilt of a seraph blade. "Luke managed to lift these off him before the cops showed up."

"Good," Jace sighed, shaking his head. "How'd they even see him, anyway? He wasn't glamoured?"

Clary and Luke exchanged a look, both of them still disturbed by the evening's events. Where would they even begin? Laying a hard look between the two boys, Luke asked, "Either of you hear about that pop idol? The one from Japan?"

Alec beamed. "MiMi-Chan. Madzie's favorite." Belatedly, he saw the look the others were giving him, then shifted awkwardly with averted eyes. "I, um... We saw the news segment. She got attacked, I guess?"

"Yeah," Clary replied with a smirk. In spite of everything weighing on them, it always warmed her heart to see the way talk of Madzie lit up Alec and Magnus' faces. Unfortunately, it'd have to be a passing light, their conversation shifting by necessity to a review of the Jade Wolf's peculiar visitors. As Clary and Luke took turns detailing everything they could remember about the night, Jace and Alec listened on intently, occasionally interjecting with the same curiosities and questions they'd felt when it all went down.

By the time they finished, Jace was slouched in his seat, hands shoved into his jeans' pockets and eyes staring at the twins, and Alec was holding his head with both hands like he'd suddenly come down with a migraine. "Great," he muttered to the table. "So on top of an uptight Clave pawn lording over the world's creepiest twins and a trio of not-quite-Shadowhunters, not-quite-Downworlders with an unhealthy definition of what constitutes 'plastic surgery,' now we've got a dead Shadowhunter locked up in a Mundane morgue because he got shot up by a yakuza mob boss who somehow found himself in possession of a pair of Downworlder lackeys for attacking their 16-year-old pop idol."

Jace quirked a brow. "She's 16?"

Clary groaned at him. "Seriously?"

"That aside," Luke redirected, "it sounds like you guys have a lot on your plate. Anything we can do to help?"

He'd directed the question to Alec, but it took the Shadowhunter a moment to notice, still not entirely used to being the leader of the group and starting to wonder if he still even wanted to. "Oh, yeah. I don't suppose there's a way to recover the body?"

Luke shrugged. "Maybe. It'd be difficult, but I'll look into it and see what I can do."

"Thanks." Alec turned and surveyed Maia and the twins. The three of them were still at it, though Maia seemed to be enjoying herself the most out of the three. The twins appeared to be enjoying themselves well enough, he supposed, but they were silent and stony as usual, as though they'd completely forgotten how to smile. It made him shudder as he turned back to the others and started sliding out of their booth. "We should get back to the Institute, see what we can find in the databases about..." His eyes widened and he sighed. "...well, all of them, I guess."

"Guess we've got our work cut out for us, huh?" Clary stood up next, then turned to bid Luke farewell with a hug. "Thanks again for all your help."

Jace was the last to rise, his manner a good bit more sudden than the other's. "Um, actually, Clary," he started, a hand reaching out to touch her elbow. To his surprise, she started, and Luke and Alec both glanced warily between them. It made Jace hesitant as he awkwardly finished, "I was... wondering if we could talk... ?"

Honestly, the flabbergasted look she gave him rather hurt. Sure, she wanted to keep their relationship a secret, but did she really have to respond  _that_ poorly to just talking to him? "Er... Sure, Jace," she finally replied, giving Luke and Alec a smile.

They both relaxed, though it took an extra look of assurance before Alec seemed satisfied enough to leave them be and go retrieve the twins. "Alright, guys, time to head back to the Institute!" he instructed, trying his best to hide his steadily growing contempt for the pair behind a placid smile. As expected, they both barely reacted to him, their eyes shifting past him to regard Jace with wide, glassy stares. Alec rolled his eyes and groaned, turning to head out the door. "I'll... tell you about Magnus while we walk," he muttered under his breath.

For reasons beyond his care or knowledge, it got them both jumping out of their booth, shouting a quick "Bye!" at Maia as they abandoned their drawings and crayons.

Maia laughed and Luke shook his head. He helped Maia clean up with a quirked brow, eying the meaningless color blotches each child had left on their papers. "When you get back, try to teach those two some manners, huh?"

"Sure thing!" Clary grinned from the doorway, offering a parting wave. "I'll call you later if we find anything out about JSTAR."

Luke nodded. "Thanks, Clary." He paused, squinting through the blinds to the storage unit outside, then obliquely added, "I'll... let him know..."

Jace frowned, following Luke's gaze. "...Simon? Let him know what?"

Clary's look seemed almost frightened, but whatever it was that bothered her didn't stop her from taking hold of his arm and leading him outside. "See you later, Luke!"

As soon as they were outside, all pleasantries appeared to melt away, leaving Clary tense and Jace dumbfounded. "Alright, what's going on, Clary?" Jace pressed. "All I wanted to do is talk. What the hell is everyone so wound up about?" A stray thought tightened his chest.  _Even Alec._

Clary whirled on him, a glare fixed on his tawny eyes. "Seriously? Are you really  _this_ dense?" she snapped, the echo of the surrounding alley giving Jace the very real fear their words might reach unintended ears.

If it weren't for the disruption offered by a stray, stumbling drunk bumping into them, Jace swore his frustration would've gotten the better of him. Thankfully, it gave him enough pause to reconsider himself, a distant thought wondering if they'd remembered to glamour themselves. They had, right? "Clary, as much as I would love to crack a witty joke about it, I'm honestly a bit hurt by that. I don't know what you're talking about." He shifted uncomfortably through her resulting scoff, finally deciding to reach for her arms in the desperate hope it'd help convey his honesty in the matter. "Come on, Clary. You've been distant ever since yesterday morning, and I don't know what—"

"Wait," Clary interrupted, uncomfortably maneuvering herself out of Jace's grasp and laying a distancing hand to his chest. "Yesterday morning?"

Jace scowled, as much to convey his frustration as to try and keep his emotions bottled. "Yeah," he bit, more terse than he'd intended. "In the training room? Before you left with Izzy to meet up with Magnus. You said—"

"Jace," she stopped him again. She didn't seem upset anymore, but rather deeply worried. He looked at him as though he were insane, igniting every last paranoia he'd felt over the past few days. "I... Gosh, how do I... ?" she struggled, shaking her head and gesturing helplessly to her sides.

With nothing to go off of, Jace couldn't do much beyond simply try to maintain eye contact, searching for the last puzzle piece he new rested on the tip of her tongue. It grew grating, trying to snatch it out of her, and impatience eventually got him begging, "Clary, just say it. What's going on?"

She looked at him, expression distant and unreadable, as if he were seeing her for the very first time. She looked... apologetic, somehow?

"Jace... you haven't spoken to me in over a year."


	10. Creepy Crawler

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pq6i9RNmO4s&index=10&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

_"Trust me, child. Everything we do is to protect them."_

_Jace stirred in his bed, brow furrowed. "...Clary?" he mumbled, eyelids still heavy and his vision groggy with sleep. "Who're you talking to?"_

_She turned from where she sat on the bed's edge to smile at him, like the bright greeting of a fresh, crisp morning. "Hm?" she asked, the sweetness of her voice resonating through even that single, tiny sound. Reaching over, she drew two delicate fingertips across his forehead to tuck his raggedy bangs away from his face, though ultimately a few strands would stubbornly slip free anyway. "What do you mean?"_

_Gazing up at her, he felt only warmth, and couldn't help but grin at the thought that he should be so lucky to have her here with him. "Nothing," he dismissed, finally surfacing from the final dregs of sleep. He adjusted himself to lay more comfortably beside her, one arm bent back under his pillow while the other moved to trace the elegant sweep of her bare spine. "Must've been dreaming."_

_The ring of her giggle sent flutters through his chest. "I'm fairly certain I still am." The rest of her body twisted around, her runes rolling along her curves like the shadows of clouds across a hilltop. Arms snaking their way around him, she pulled herself close and laid her head upon his chest, eyes shut and breath subdued so she could hear the rhythmic lullaby of his heartbeat. "How can any of this be real?" she whispered, hand fondly tracing each and every rune dancing across his chest._

_Jace turned his face to press a kiss to her forehead, a content rumble sounding through his chest. "It has to be," he whispered. She lifted her face to study him, and he met her eyes with a desperate plea in his own, his thumb idly stroking her cheek. "I don't know what I'd do if it weren't." It weighed on him perhaps a moment longer than he'd intended, bringing him to quickly banish the gravity of it with a grin. "Probably punch whoever woke me up."_

_She enjoyed a brief laugh, then sank her fingers into the locks of his hair to pull him into a deep kiss. He took her bottom lip in kind, then pried his way past her teeth with the tip of his tongue. A pleasured hum rustled between them as his hands found the sudden peak of her shoulder blades, then slipped down her slender sides until they found secure holds upon her hips. He could feel her breath quicken against his lips, and from the way his heart raced in his chest he truly thought he might die right here in her arms - and knew he would offer it no protest._

_Needing more of her nectar than what a simple kiss could offer, he hooked a strong arm about her waist and rolled the both of them over with a sudden rock of his hips. She fell back upon his mattress easily, fiery hair splayed across his pillows, a half-gasp half-moan spilling from her lips. For a brief moment, he paused, gazing down at her in contemplation of what fortune had led them to this moment. A gentle smile turned the corners of his mouth, so unlike his usual smirk, and his fingers slid under the nape of her neck to behold her beauty. "I love you, Clary Fray."_

_A simplicity overtook her face, beaming fondly up at him. Her fingertips found his sharp jaw, and the rune gracing his strong neck, and the taut muscles suspending him above her. "I love you too, Jace Herondale."_

Jace wheeled, suddenly feeling intensely ill. "What?" he choked, the absence of breath rendering his voice nearly inaudible.

Clary didn't need to hear it to have an idea of what he'd said, and it made her all the angrier, hot tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "A  _year_ , Jace!" She tried to dry her eyes with a quick swipe of her hand, but really only succeeded in smearing it along her cheek. "You can't just pretend something like that away just because you're too proud to admit it!"

Memory after memory swarmed him so quickly his head began to ache. "No, no," he was muttering, looking around as if he'd dropped the answer on the ground somewhere. "No, that's... that's impossible," he insisted, but it held none of its usual weight. A ringing had taken residence in his ears, and he had to catch himself on a nearby wall to ward against the accompanying dizziness.

"Impossible?" she scoffed, taking his behavior for some kind of indignant fit. "You wouldn't even talk to Alec about it! Your  _parabatai_!"

Finally he claimed grounding enough to look up at her, a hurt scowl marring his brow. " _You_ told me not to! You said... You said I had to keep it a secret..."

Her confusion made it difficult to remain angry. Either he was truly convinced of his own words, or he was terrifyingly good at diverting unwanted aggression. Admittedly, both were fairly equally likely. "Why the hell would I tell you to keep it a secret?" she asked, completely flabbergasted. "You put him out of commission for a full week!"

Now  _that_ was something he knew was true, as unsettled as he was by the memory. He winced at its mention, eyes falling guiltily to the floor. "I  _know_ , Clary. I told you a year ago - I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me."

She blinked at his words, steadily more and more convinced he really  _did_ believe everything he was saying. "What? No, you didn't. Maybe to Alec and Izzy for having to deal with your drunk ass, but outside of what's required for work you haven't so much as given me the time of day since then, much less  _apologized_ for it!"

"Clary, I... _We_... !" His voice fell off, the memories collapsing upon themselves the minute he tried to voice them. The notion that they were all fake, that every kiss, embrace, and coupling had been but a dream, spoke to a greater insanity he refused to consider, but nor could he accept that the person who'd shared his private life for so long could be so cruel as to deny it all so flippantly. The back-and-forth made Jace's headache progressively worse, until at last he grew fed up with arguing and reached for his stele. "Look, clearly we're not going to figure this out by arguing. I'll  _show_ you what I remember."

Clary gestured emptily to the surrounding alley. "Fine," she eventually sighed, reaching into her back pocket. "Then I'll do the..." She frowned, twisting around to check her other pocket. "...Where's my stele?" she muttered, eventually looking up to check on Jace.

He was caught in a similar state, hands frantically patting down his leather jacket. "I swear I had it..." he was grumbling to himself.

A distant thought occurred to them, turning their stares down the alley. The bum that had bumped into them was slowly stumbling further and further away - no, not stumbling,  _walking_ , all signs of inebriation wholly evaporated from their manner. Alarm flared up in both of them, overriding their prior quarrel with each other in face of a common enemy. Jace was the first to break off into a run, Clary following close on his heels. "Hey! Stop!" he yelled, less out of any belief the figure would actually heed his call and more in hopes Alec and Gemini were still close by enough to hear him.

Predictably, the figure started running as well, though they didn't look to see who was chasing them.

"I don't get it," Clary huffed between breaths as they ran. "Weren't you glamoured?"

"Of course I was!" Jace snapped back. "Were  _you_?"

"Duh! I spent the morning searching the area for yakuza!"

"Well I think you  _missed one_!"

Their quarrel came to an abrupt halt the minute they rounded the corner and slammed into a tall figure, apparently strong enough to withstand the impact despite his lean build. They managed to keep themselves upright, but as they looked up to challenge the person stopping them their voices caught in their throats.

Cyd sneered at them, the venomous tips of two tendrils pressed to their throats. "You got a lot of nerve, Herondale."

Jace and Clary stiffened, watching as the figure they'd been pursuing held a small hand out to Cyd, two steles laying innocently in their palm. "Sorry," the considerably meeker person muttered insincerely, revealing themselves in that moment to be a girl. She rose her face just slightly, little more than her nose, mouth, and one eye peeking out from under her hood and behind her long, black hair. "Had to make sure you two wouldn't try anything stupid."

"Great," Jace couldn't stop himself from grumbling through gritted teeth. "Another one. How goddamn many of you  _are_ there?"

Cyd had to stop the girl from jumping him, an arm quickly crossing before her to catch her chest. "Relax, Malina. He's known to get aggressive in the face of adversity."

Malina scowled, then nodded her head at Clary. "And what about the bitch?"

"Tell your babysitter to get this thing out of my face, and maybe you'll find out," Clary bit.

Cyd shook his head, foggy-grey eyes shifting between the both of them. "Where's Gemini?" he eventually asked Jace, taking the steles from Malina and slipping them into his back pocket.

"What's got you so interested in 'em?" Jace countered, his eyes taking on a golden sheen.

Cyd frowned, the tendril at Clary's neck shifting close enough for the sharp tip of its stinger to catch against her skin. " _Nothing stupid_ , Herondale. We know about your little talent." He smirked, his tendril writhing anxiously without actually pricking Clary. "Wouldn't want your girlfriend getting hurt now would we?"

"I'm  _not_ his girlfriend!"

The sharp denial cut Jace through his chest, a wrinkled glower darkening his face as he turned to Clary. "You don't have to be so eager about it," he muttered, long past accepting the fact he and Clary clearly had very different impressions of the past year.

Cyd seemed unfazed by Clary's words - indeed, he looked as though he'd even expected them. As Jace spoke, though, his brow narrowed, and his lips pursed. "...I see."

Behind him, Malina was snarling again. "God damn it!" She turned to glare up at Cyd through her hood. " _Now_ what?"

Jace and Clary remained quiet as they watched their exchange, hoping to pick up on some unchecked detail which might clue them in to the bigger picture. Cyd appeared aware of it, and chose his words carefully. "Go get her," he instructed, intentionally vague. "Take her to the others."

Malina hesitated, warily eying Clary and Jace. "What about Gemini?"

Cyd's third tendril arched over his head, curling across the distance between him and Jace like a poised cobra. "I'll handle it. Just make sure she's safe."

She obviously didn't like leaving him alone with them, but nor did she enjoy the thought of leaving whoever they referred to out to dry. Without another word, she turned and fled the alley, dashing in the direction of the Institute.

"Wait!" Clary yelled, moving to follow.

She froze a moment later when Cyd's stinger pressed into her neck hard enough to draw blood. "I mean it, nephilth. You do anything other than tell me where the fuck Gemini is, and I'll—"

"They're headed back to the Institute," Jace suddenly blurted. "Alec's with them."

Clary turned a mortified look upon him. "What are you doing?!" she hissed.

Meanwhile, a smirk slowly crossed Cyd's features. "I guess it wasn't  _all_ for naught," he noted. The tendrils held to their throats tightened, their mass condensing while the third retreated back behind him. "Thanks for cooperating. I'll keep it to a low dose - just enough to keep you two from interfering."

Despite the contempt that had risen between them, Jace's whole being felt compelled to protect Clary, moving between her and Cyd with a look of desperation. "Don't. Please. We won't follow you." A revolt raged inside his mind, torn between lingering feelings of devotion to Clary and his duty to keep Gemini, as wards of the New York Institute, safe. Liandra's tight-lipped warning echoed between his ears -  _It'll be your head if anything happens to them_. Even more distantly, a green field and cloud-speckled sky flickered across his eyes like a long-lost memory -  _You'll protect them, right?_ It was starting to make him ill again, but he held his ground, sharp glare daring Cyd to try him. "You hurt her, and I'll spill your guts right where you stand.

A deep contemplation stirred behind Cyd's fogged eyes, but he seemed hardly swayed by Jace's threat. Eventually, he turned to look at Clary, the other-worldly nature of his stare sending chills down her spine. "I know," he eventually uttered, slowly looking back at Jace. "Even still, please understand that I will not risk anything which may jeopardize their safety."

The remark surprised the both of them, and Clary seized the opportunity to try and glean some deeper understanding of Cyd and his comrades. "Then why are you fighting us? They're under our Institute's protection. Just... Just tell us what's got you so worried, and let us help."

The scoff Cyd offered her reeked of loathing, though his tendrils at last retracted just enough to relieve the pressure from Clary's neck. "They really haven't told you anything?"

"'They' who?" Jace pressed, his patience wearing thin. "Gemini? They've barely said a peep!" The group's impromptu meeting at the Jade Wolf came to mind, and he corrected, "Well, until Magnus came up."

For once, something broke through Cyd's stony exterior, his eyes widening and something softening his features - fear or relief, Jace couldn't quite tell. "Magnus Bane... ?"

Clary shook her head, baffled. "Yeah. You know, the guy you and the others threatened yesterday?"

Cyd's lips parted to reply, but before his tongue could form a single word his head jerked to the side, attentions drawn elsewhere. An arrow streaked through the air, narrowly missing his head as his body reflexively shifted back just in the nick of time. His tendrils suddenly swept away from Jace and Clary with the motion, all care for them thrown out in favor of scouring the rooftops. "Shit," he cursed between his teeth.

Jace took full advantage of Cyd's momentary distraction, his eyes taking on a brilliantly golden glow and igniting the Agility rune on his arm. The next thing Cyd knew, Jace had darted around him, one hand immediately grabbing his trio of tendrils by the ends and the other twisting Cyd's arm around to his back. The sudden, sharp motion pulled a pained yelp out of the demonically-altered Shadowhunter, followed soon thereafter by a suppressed grunt as Jace pinned him against the nearest wall. "Fun fact: my _parabatai_ , the one you threatened last night? He's the best shot this side of Hell." He smirked, pulling Cyd's arm further up his back out of spite. "Looks like the tables have turned, asshole!"

Clary had her back to them, squinting as she searched their surroundings. "Jace, I don't think that was him," she cautioned. Finding nothing, she moved to where the arrow had buried itself between the wall's bricks, careful fingertips guiding her examination of its feathers, length, and what remained exposed of its arrowhead. "That was a kill shot," she continued. "That's not like Alec."

Cyd was still gritting his teeth, but he offered no struggle against Jace's restraint, apparently either resigned to his fate or too scared to try anything. "It wasn't," he offered, a verifiable anxiety in his voice, "though I'll concede he would have every reason to."

Jace warily glanced between them. "Well, if it wasn't Alec—?"

Another arrow cut him off. It slipped between him and Cyd, sinking clear through the bicep of Cyd's free arm - the only part of him Jace's body wasn't blocking. An all-out scream tore through Cyd's throat, the smell of burning flesh bursting from the open wound. As far as Jace or Clary knew, a Shadowhunter's flesh shouldn't have reacted that way to even a runed arrow - though she didn't know what was going on, Clary immediately moved to remove the thing from Cyd's arm. "Demonic freak or not," she growled as she broke off the feathered end of the arrow, "killing you won't get us anywhere." Catching Jace's indignant look, she added with a roll of her eyes, "We still need to find Mar and Daraiya, and figure out what's going on with the twins."

"'Fraid I can't let you do that, luv."

Clary whirled, the bloodied half of the broken arrow gripped tight in her hand. Behind her, she could sense Cyd relaxing somewhat against the wall, a faint and weary "thank you" falling out of him. Even still, Jace held him securely against the wall, pinning him with the full of his body so he could crane his neck to try and see Cyd's assailant.

The man stood at the far end of the alley in dark jeans, a striped shirt, and a leather jacket. His skin was fair beneath the dark runes decorating his hands and one cheek, and bright blue eyes locked in on Cyd through messy tangles of light-brown hair. He'd already drawn another arrow, though Clary noted he didn't have a clear shot with her and Jace standing between them. A smile pulled across his face, showing off gleaming white teeth in a way that would have been charming if it hadn't been accompanied by a completely deranged threat. "I'd stand aside if I were you, lest you want me to put a hole in that pretty neck of yours."

Clary clenched her fists, taking a half-step closer to Jace and Cyd. "Another Shadowhunter," she warned under her breath. "I don't recognize him though."

"You wouldn't," he called out to them in his thick accent. "Easier that way. Don' wanna stir up a panic an' all."

Cyd grit his teeth, glaring over his shoulder to the bowman. "Chester Starsong," he muttered. Jace noticed a chill had come over Cyd, the distance in his voice betraying some kind of history between them. For now, he left it alone, but eased his grip out of sympathy and the growing suspicion Cyd really _wasn't_ their enemy.

Not wholly, anyway. It'd be a long time before Jace fully forgave him for attacking Alec.

"That's a pretty lame excuse," Clary called to him, doing what she could to keep his focus on her. "Why should we believe a word you say?"

Chester shrugged, the motion causing his head to tilt slightly. Clary recognized the thinly-veiled attempt to line up a better shot and shifted accordingly. "Don't care," he sighed. "Not really about you, luv, nor the bloke givin' my boy here a feel."

"That'd be nice for a change," Cyd remarked, laden with dry sarcasm.

Jace re-tightened his grip. "Maybe now's not the best time, huh?"

Clary ignored them, careful to keep herself in line with Chester's subtle adjustments of his aim. "Well, we're not moving. You really gonna kill two of the New York Institute's finest over some DJ?" Quietly, she prayed it wouldn't come to that, or at least that she'd have the bravery to stand her ground if it did.

Her belittling remark apparently offended Cyd. " _Excuse_ me? 'Some DJ'?"

"Do you  _want_ to get shot?" Jace scowled. "Just say the word. I'll gladly stand aside!"

Clary's heart skipped a beat as she saw Chester squint one eye and draw his arrow the slightest bit further back. "Like I said..." he murmured, making a final adjustment. Clary leaned to stay in the way, but the longer she stared down Chester's arrow the less she doubted his conviction. "...not really about you."

The full breadth of her mortality weighed upon her as Chester let his arrow fly. She didn't know whether it was courage or paralyzing fear that kept her in place, but nor did she have much time to contemplate it. Just when she thought she was taking her final breath, a second arrow split the air, striking Chester's by its arrowhead and knocking it safely off-course. Her racing heart had rendered her palms clammy, beads of cold sweat sprinkled across her skin, but still she found presence enough to turn and beam in relief at her savior.

Alec already had a second arrow knocked and trained on Chester. "Drop your weapon!" he commanded, swiftly closing in on the mystery Shadowhunter with not a look spared Clary and Jace's way.

Before he could remark on Alec's impeccable timing and aim, Cyd's eyes caught a glimpse of a new reason to panic. "NO!" he yelled, the suddenness of his struggle breaking him free of Jace's unsuspecting hold.

Jace quickly grabbed him by his wounded arm before he, too, noticed the two small figures darting past Alec. "Gemini, stop!"

The pair were already upon Chester by the time Alec reacted, cursing through his teeth. With Chester now focused on them instead of Cyd, Clary joined Alec in chasing after the twins, neither sure just whose side they should be on but determined to keep the lot of them from killing each other. Though his preoccupation with Cyd kept him from throwing in as well, Jace watched on, unable to suppress a spark of pride. Gemini employed a scrappy, tag-team assault, taking full advantage of their small size and unfathomable coordination to hold their own against Chester. From the way Gemini kept pace with him, Jace might have presumed the stranger to be a Mundane at best, had he not been so dangerously armed and riddled with runes.

Cyd, however, wasn't quite so enthralled, his tendrils snapping around to surround Jace. "Let me help them!" he snarled, mere seconds away from stabbing Jace in three separate places.

Perhaps because he could relate to the intense worry sewn through Cyd's features, or perhaps because it was the single greatest betrayal of emotion he'd seen Cyd display so far, Jace was inclined to comply. He parted his lips to reply, but Clary's shriek replaced his voice, and all care for Cyd disappeared into thin air.

" _Jimmy_!!!"

He didn't need to finish processing what he saw before he charged, only peripherally aware of the stele being shoved back in his hand as he ran. It was a gesture more than anything else, his eyes already glowing gold once more and triggering his Acceleration rune. Clary falling to her knees, Naia limp in her arms, passed like a blur as he pulled ahead of Cyd and lunged. His fist soared through the air over a ducking Alec, connecting with Chester's jaw while his parabatai twisted away from them.

Chester quickly regained himself, spinning on his heel to crack his bow down on Jace's shoulder. The blow stung, but did little to dissuade Jace from throwing an uppercut directly to the foreign Shadowhunter's gut. He landed two, three punches before glimpsing a silver sheen just a second too late. He twisted at the last moment, the hidden Seraph blade sinking in beneath his ribcage but at least missing his lungs. Chester's hand found the back of his neck and grabbed his hair to restrict his movement, a pissed snarl preceding a second, fatal strike. "Shoulda just pissed off, Herondale."

Suddenly, another figure slid in behind Chester. Jace expected to see Alec ripping the Seraph blade from Chester's hand, but instead the sheen of a slick tendril pierced through Chester's wrist, splattering Jace's face with blood. Chester let out a pained cry, releasing both the blade and Jace so both could fall to the ground. With his side bleeding out, Jace could do little more than watch on as Cyd caught Chester's bow from behind him, his other two tendrils raising up and over his head. He offered no snide remark, no voice of vengeance, no declaration that might reveal any of the tumultuous thoughts Chester had riled behind his stormy eyes. There was only the cold certainty of his execution, his two remaining tendrils diving into Chester's back the very moment they located adequate targets.

Chester's eyes went wide and his mouth hung ajar. His voice had been reduced to a choke, anything more he might have wanted to say too shattered to be comprehended. The toxin Cyd fed into him brought out his veins and arteries like black bolts of lightening across his neck and face, and soon the whole of his flesh had pitched into a lifeless, sheet-white pallor. Cyd held him like that until he stopped convulsing, and only then finally dropped him to the ground beside his abandoned Seraph blade, eyes vacantly staring across the eerie sheen of his own pooling blood.

"You... You  _killed_ him!" Jace gasped.

"Yeah. I did." Cyd didn't wait for further contempt, attentions already diverted to Clary and Alec - or, more rightly, the children in their arms. He grit his teeth and urgently stepped over Chester and Jace, bounding towards Alec with little regard for the dirty look being shot his way.

"Stay back!" Alec warned, drawing the Seraph blade from his leg holster. Cyd ignored both it and him completely, unaware of how his utter lack of concern for Alec actually kind of assuaged Alec's fears Cyd might try and take him hostage again. Though he kept the blade ready, he warily lowered it and loosened his hold of Jimmy. If nothing else, Cyd's inspection of the unconscious twin might help Alec deduce his connection to Gemini.

Clary stood and hurried towards them, Naia hanging in her arms like an oversized doll. "Cyd, what's going on?" she demanded through her panic. "Naia collapsed the minute Chester knocked out Jimmy... Please, tell us so we can help them!"

Behind them, Jace managed to retrieve his stele and activate his Healing rune, teeth clenched through the stinging sensation of his flesh weaving itself back together. As the third activation in a relatively short time, not to mention the blood loss, it left him drained, his breathing heavy and his limbs able only to crawl him towards the others on all fours. When he arrived, he collapsed in a huff, distantly thankful for the worried hand Clary placed upon his head but concerned primarily for Gemini. "Cyd, I don't think we're your enemy here," he managed in a hoarse breath. It earned him a sharp look from Alec, which he imploringly met head-on. "I'm not saying we should trust him, but we at least wouldn't kill him on-sight like..." He hesitated, then turned to Cyd. "...Starsong, you said?"

Cyd remained quiet, lost in deep thought. His hand was cupping the side of Jimmy's face like a distraught parent - come to think of it, they looked vaguely similar, separated as they were by a solid fifteen years or so at least. His head turned to regard Naia next, the purse of his lips tightening and the clench of his teeth making the muscles of his cheeks and neck ripple. Alec grew tired of waiting for an answer, blinking and parting his lips, but Cyd either didn't want or didn't need to hear it, standing and turning away from them with a low mutter.

Alec had been the only one to hear it, and he didn't believe his ears. "...Sorry, what?" he snapped accusingly, a frown set upon his face.

"You heard me," Cyd bit back, kneeling beside Chester's body and searching his pockets. Still, he repeated himself for Jace and Clary's benefit. "Take me in. The bitch running point on Gemini is Liandra Thistlebrook, right?"

Alec's grip tightened protectively around Jimmy, suddenly reconsidering what progress he thought they'd made with Cyd. "I can't say I'm surprised you know her, but I'd feel a lot better if you would tell us  _why_."

Cyd found what he was looking for on Chester and stood up, the contents of both hands blocked from their sight. Ignoring Alec's remark, he continued, "She's going to be suspicious when Starsong doesn't check in and Jace doesn't return with Gemini."

Jace twisted around to lift a brow at him, suddenly very concerned with what Cyd had retrieved from Chester's body. "And  _why_ exactly am I not returning with Gemini? Perhaps you didn't notice, but they need medical attention. Like, fast. And I don't think some Healing rune is gonna cut it."

"No shit." When Cyd turned around, the three of them immediately recoiled, instantly recognizing the tranquilizer dart gripped in one of his hands. Jace defensively put his hand out and prepared to kick Cyd away, knowing he didn't have the strength to do much else, but to everyone's surprise Cyd passed him by without so much as a second glance, instead walking back over to Alec. He held both items out to him, the tranquilizer dart and a cell phone. "You take them back to the Institute, and that bitch will just continue trying to make them her pawns." With a pointed glare shot Jace's way, he added, "She knows they're effective bait." To Alec, he finished, "If you don't believe me, look through Starsong's phone history."

Alec eyed Cyd head-to-toe with particular attention given to the tendrils hanging from his head. Arms tight around the small boy in his arms, he thought for a moment how he'd feel if it were Madzie, whether he'd trust Liandra with her safety. The answer was obvious, but Jimmy and Naia were Shadowhunters, weren't they? And the Clave would never...

His eyes trailed over to the dead Shadowhunter. They had no idea who he was, much like Everdale, and if the morning news was to be believed both men had attacked people seemingly out of the blue. Even in Cyd's case, having attacked an Institute leader, Alec felt certain a kill order was over the top, especially if it put other innocent Shadowhunters in harm's way. With them in mind, Alec looked to Jace and Clary for guidance, a sort of gut-check against the decision he'd already begun making.

Jace spoke first. "I still don't trust him," he began, speaking as though Cyd weren't standing right next to him, "but between him and Liandra..." His tawny eyes shifted to regard the twins, his expression softening. "Well, one of the two has obviously shown more concern for Gemini's well-being than the other."

Alec's stare betrayed nothing of his own thoughts as he turned to Clary. "And what about you?"

Clary's eyes trembled as they shifted between Alec, Cyd, and Chester, her hand subconsciously stroking Naia's hair as if she could impart some degree of comfort upon the unconscious child. "I... I don't know," she sighed with a shake of her head. Thinking back to her argument with Jace, she continued, "There's so much going on, and we still don't have any answers for any of it." That single remark seemed to make up her mind, and with renewed confidence she looked back at Alec, gaze firm. "Working with Cyd might put us at risk, but I think we'll have better luck finding those answers with him rather than Liandra."

It was about what he'd expected to hear. Alec nodded his thanks to both of them, then carefully transferred Jimmy into Jace's arms. "Alright, Cyd, we'll bite." His tone pitched as he took the phone and tranquilizer from Cyd's palm, then jabbed a warning finger in his face. "Anything happens to them, and I'll put you down personally."

In spite of the dire circumstances, Cyd couldn't suppress a smirk. "Sorry, Sugar Lips, but you ain't my type."

Clary cut in before Alec bit Cyd's head off. "Alright, so where are we taking them? I'm assuming a Mundane hospital's off the table."

Cyd turned around, a hand lifting to gently touch Naia's wrist. From his manner, they could tell he was reluctant to give away whatever he was about to reveal. It underscored just how much he cared about Jimmy and Naia, though none of them were quite sure why. "There's an abandoned hospital on Roosevelt Island. The people you'll find there are the only ones in the world I'd trust with their safety." He allowed a grin to slip through. "Well, aside from myself, of course."

"And just who would that be?" Jace piped up, still awkwardly figuring out the best way to hold Jimmy. He couldn't remember ever holding a small child before, and couldn't say he was looking forward to ever having to again. "Because, you know, the last time we went there was not entirely pleasant."

"...Malina," he sighed, eyes slipping shut. He didn't want to say more, but knew he'd have to in order to keep them on his side. "The girl from before. If you hurry, you'll beat her back. When she finds you..." He turned to Clary, figuring Jace's weariness might lead him to forget what he was about to say. "...tell her this, exactly: 'No flame burns brighter than iron.' She'll know I sent you, and take you in to meet the others."

Clary's eyes widened. "You mean Mar and Daraiya, right? You actually expect us to hand Jimmy and Naia over to those—"

Cyd's tendrils whipped around to aim their stingers at her, Alec's arrow knocked and drawn to Cyd's temple in the same instant. "Careful, princess," he hissed, holding his poise despite the sharp metal lingering mere inches from his head. "You may not get it, but I'm putting everything at risk by telling you all this. Fact is their chances are better with you hounds than the nephilth taking residence in your Institute." His tendrils retracted as he turned, landing Alec's arrowhead square between his eyes. "If that means handing myself over for the sake of keeping all of this off her radar, then so be it, but don't expect me to roll over and let you all insult us just because you've got a fancy arrow in my face."

The tension remained high between them all, but ultimately Alec lowered his weapon with a nod to Clary and Jace. "Do it. I'll reach out to you as soon as I can - if not me, Izzy should be able to slip away easily enough."

They both nodded, Jace sparing a final, worried look between Cyd and his parabatai. "Be careful, Alec." Trying to add some humor to the situation, he tacked on, "I don't wanna have to save your ass again."

Alec responded with a scoff and roll of his eyes. "Just make sure I won't have to save yours either."

As Jace and Clary took off down the alley, precious cargo in tow, Alec returned his arrow to his quiver and hooked his bow around his shoulders. "Alright, Cyd," he muttered, pulling out the tranquilizer. "Let's try and make this believable, huh?"

Despite a clear anxiety wracking his whole being, Cyd made no move to shy away or defend himself, fogged eyes intently ignoring the dart and focusing on Alec's. He allowed Alec to crack a punch across each side of his face, then little more than winced as the tranquilizer's needle pierced the flesh of his neck. It was either an absurdly high dose or else specifically tailored for Cyd's physiology, because he already began swaying, his eyes growing heavy as he struggled to keep his head up and maintain eye contact with Alec. "That for last night?" he snarled through gritted teeth.

Alec caught him as he collapsed, a bit surprised by how heavy he was despite his relatively lithe physique.  _The guy must be pure muscle or something..._ He hoisted one of Cyd's arms over his shoulders and held him around the waist, then pulled out his stele to activate his Stealth rune. "That, right now, whatever's to come..." He frowned, looking over Cyd's arms in search of his Stealth rune and just now noticing there didn't appear to be _any_ runes anywhere on him. Aside from the mutilated parabatai rune on his shoulder, anyway.

Cyd noticed his curiosity with a low glower. "Runes are an easy way to get outed. If you have to do it, put it under my shirt." He smirked. "That won't be a problem for your boyfriend, will it?"

Rather than punch him again, Alec took the high road and stuck the end of his stele to Cyd's side. He'd be lying if he said he didn't take pleasure in the pained cry the rune pulled through Cyd's clenched teeth.

"No," he muttered as he drew. "It won't."


	11. Le Grand Secret

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIdRUe2jAjk&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU&index=11)\--]

Izzy's bright smile rapidly fell into wide-eyed alarm when she registered the limp man in Alec's arms. "You! You!" she snapped, already jogging towards Alec as she jabbed a finger at the two nearest Shadowhunters. They immediately dropped what they were doing and swept in to relieve their Head of the Institute of the strange person he was carrying, their brows furrowing in confused horror at the Ravener tendrils hanging from the man's head.

"Take him downstairs," Alec instructed, sure to look each of them in the eye to convey the gravity of the matter. "Lock him up in one of the cells."

"Sir," they both acknowledged with a nod, then turned to swiftly execute their order.

Izzy glanced frantically between her brother and the departing Shadowhunters. "You guys caught him?" she asked, voice low. "Where's Jace and Clary? And the twins?" Even as she asked, she leaned to look around him, hoping any of them might have been about to walk through the Institute's front doors.

Alec raised a hand to slow her down, eyes surveying the Institute beyond. "You know where Renwick's is?"

She blinked, surprised by the question, and nodded. "Of course. Why? Did something happen?"

As his lips parted to reply, he finally spotted Liandra. Leaning down, he urged in a hush, "Go. Now. Text me when you get there."

Izzy looked back to the rest of the Institute, a hand diving into the back pocket of her jeans. "Yeah, sure thing," she replied, subtly shifting towards the door. As soon as she'd put Alec between her and the approaching Elite, she deftly pulled her hand from her pocket and stuffed it under Alec's jacket. Predictably, Alec's hand subconsciously moved to meet it, confusion strewn across his bowed face. Obscured from view, she let go of the plastic baggy she'd drawn and met Alec's gaze directly. "Take this to Magnus," she whispered. "Liandra found it at the café. Don't let her know you've got it."

He didn't have time to question her before Liandra's sharp voice sounded behind him. "Mr. Lightwood, I see you've returned. From the Jade Wolf, I presume?"

Alec turned a quirked brow over his shoulder to acknowledge her arrival, his hands trading off the baggy so he could slip it into the jacket pocket still hidden beyond Liandra's view. "Ah, Ms. Thistlebrook. Just a moment." He held his open hand to her as he'd done with Izzy, as much to direct her attentions as to signal he hadn't forgotten about her. As soon as his other hand was free of the slipped evidence, he used it to point towards the door, eyes gesturing Izzy towards it. "Go find them," he replied loudly enough for Liandra to hear. "Text me when you do."

"You can count on me," Izzy replied with a curt nod, taking hints from Alec's vagueness - in all likelihood, he'd made the remark to start establishing his cover for her departure. She upheld the sense of urgency he established with a flighty departure, leaving before Liandra could get a single word in edgewise. She could only hope her small warning had been enough to clue her brother in:

 _Don't trust Liandra_.

As Izzy left, Alec turned back to Liandra, occupying her attentions to aid Izzy's escape. "Sorry about that," he replied insincerely. He was already moving past her with a light pat to her shoulder, the otherwise innocuous motion subtly suggesting it had always been just as empty as his outstretched palm.

Between that and her current state of alarm, it successfully kept Izzy's pass of the baggy well outside of her awareness. "Find who?" she pressed, and he could feel the daggers her eyes threw at his back. "Where are my charges?"

 _Not too concerned about Jace_ , he irritably noted in the back of his mind. He waved for her to continue following him, heading straight for his office. "Let's talk in private," he insisted. A portion of his awareness circled the woman behind him as they walked, his deep blue eyes meanwhile scanning every inch of the Institute as they walked. Though he felt something like a paranoid conspiracy theorist, he made sure to pay careful attention to his emotional state. He waited with baited breath for the tiniest alteration, for the first sign of his prior bouts of nausea, but even as they reached his office it never came. When his hand grasped the knob and found loosened metal holdings, a different kind of alert gave him pause.

"Apologies, Mr. Lightwood," Liandra spoke up behind him, noticing his hesitation. "We heard your phone going off inside. I had Naia pick the lock to retrieve it." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Jace returned it to you, I trust?"

"...Yes," he replied with a wary glance over his shoulder. After all their interactions, short though they'd been, he was plenty aware enough to recognize she was asking more to confirm he'd met with Jace - and, in turn, Gemini - than whether he'd received his phone. As he stepped into his office, he took a careful survey of everything inside, flashes of the previous night flickering behind his eyelids and bringing a gentle color to his cheeks.

Lianda's tone turned bored as she pushed her way past him, her patience wearing thing. "Don't worry, they didn't bother with anything else." Her arms slid into a fold low before her, keen eyes gliding towards the tablet laying upon his desk. "Check your security cams later, if you don't believe me."

As he pulled the door shut, he passed her a full-on glare. Still, no sickness had risen, and equal parts relief and suspicion took the place of his prior paranoia. It almost felt as though something had vacated the Institute, leaving the air just a tiny bit cleaner, the people within a tiny bit plainer, the office around him a tiny bit roomier. He'd make a point to speak with Magnus about it later, but for now he took advantage of his newfound footing to regard Liandra with all the leverage his position offered him.

"Something tells me those feeds won't show me everything I need to know." Sitting back against his desk's edge, he retrieved Chester's phone from his pocket and tossed it at her - it was his turn to fold his arms now, eager to finally have the upper hand between the two of them. "Feel like telling me about 'Chester Starsong'?"

Liandra stilled as she caught the phone and turned it over in her fingers. She didn't need to open it to know whose it was, what was stored on it, and therefore what Alec had likely already perused on his way home. Her lips pursed, and her blue eyes turned to ice as they lifted back to him. "No," she replied, plain and simple.

"Mm," he murmured, standing up to stalk around his desk and fall back into his chair. Despite the role's trying tediousness, he certainly enjoyed the occasional strings it offered over the Clave. "Well, then, I suppose I'm going to need you to pack your things and vacate this Institute." A small, wry smile crept its way across his lips. "You see, in these trying times of strangers appearing out of nowhere and the bodies of unregistered Shadowhunters falling in our laps, the New York Institute simply can't afford to associate itself with anyone it can't trust implicitly."

The remark brought a fuming rage into those cold eyes of hers. He could see the question lingering in her gaze, left unspoken:  _Chester Starsong is dead?_ Instead, her hand constricting about the phone, she tightly replied, "Mr. Lightwood, you should know that what business I'm here to conduct is by strict order of the Clave."

"Perhaps," he airily muttered, turning to the papers on his desk in an idle search for what sparse memos the Clave had actually sent the Institute. "Perhaps not. See, the Clave only ever said we'd be receiving two transfers. They were a bit reserved on the details, and here I sit with two dead Shadowhunters on the streets and three squatters who apparently don't have much to say on the matter." He snapped his fingers then, as if just remembering something. "Oh! And a surgically modified Shadowhunter locked up downstairs."

He watched with studious attention as that last detail caught Liandra's interest, her eyes widening. Even still, she said nothing, still weighing everything he'd said and assessing every option, every detail. She would betray nothing until she deemed it absolutely necessary for the success of her mission - all  _he_ needed to do was make it just so.

Luckily, having Cyd in the cards gave him just that. Offering a silent thanks to his peculiar ally, he sat upright in his chair, arms laying atop his desk with templed fingers. "So, since I can't confirm for certain whether your twins are our mysterious transfers, or if it was meant to be Starsong and Everdale, you're going to have to convince me you  _weren't_ involved in the apparent erasure of two of our own." If his tone and the content of his speech hadn't been enough, the look he gave the phone in her hands made it explicitly clear he was done taking any of her vague non-answers. Either she'd have to answer to his satisfaction, or she'd find herself on trial for treason, and he was guessing the Clave wouldn't be too eager to swoop in to her rescue, not when they hadn't even wanted to put her name to paper. "You feel like telling me about Starsong  _now_? Or, maybe you'd rather head down to the Jade Wolf and we can talk to the local pack leader about why a Vampire and a Werewolf working for a Mundane yakuza felt compelled to gun down a Shadowhunter in front of his restaurant?"

By now, Liandra was clenching her teeth so hard it made her cheeks ripple. For a fleeting moment, she seemed to measure him up, judging whether she could take him in a fight and how difficult it'd be to slip away after she'd finished. She swiftly deemed it either too risky or too bothersome, then sharply threw the phone back at Alec before collapsing into one of his office's chairs. "Fine, Lightwood," she hissed through gritted teeth, "but only because enduring your tiresome interrogation will be less a waste of time than dealing with you and your sister's incessant questioning."

It wasn't exactly the most encouraging start, but it was good enough to finally start getting somewhere with the whole mess that had descended upon the New York Institute seemingly overnight. Or, so he hoped, anyway. He flipped open the phone with a sigh and sat back in his chair, idly flicking through its contents to keep his eyes from betraying any of his thoughts. "Well, my sister and I thank you for your cooperation, begrudging as it may be."

As he was deciding how to kick things off, a particular succession of texts caught his attention mid-scroll. He quickly backtracked to give it a closer read, eyes narrowing upon the cryptic words and their red-handed implication.

> _He's here. Order?_
> 
> _Any others?_
> 
> _Herondale. Fray. No Blights._
> 
> _Proceed. Eliminate._
> 
> _Angels?_
> 
> _Mission first. Secure Gemini._

By the time his eyes returned to Liandra, a seething chill had set in. He had to focus to contain the outrage he felt for her total disregard of Clary and Jace's safety. To her credit, Liandra held his glare, such was her conviction behind the conversation she knew he'd read. Alec shut the phone off and laid it upon his desk, no longer concerned with hiding his fury, and folded his arms upon his desk, anxious energy drumming his fingers atop its polished wood.

"Alright, Ms. Thistlebrook. Why don't you start with telling me exactly what the hell a 'Blight' is?" 

* * *

Luke could tell from a mile away that something weighed on their minds, and furthermore instinctively knew he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. Whether it related to whatever Jace had wanted to talk to Clary about, or to the unconscious children in their arms, Luke didn't care. He loaded them into his car without question, the ensuing drive to Roosevelt Island progressing more or less wordlessly.

The pair of them were grateful for it beyond expression, each of them wrapped up in their own thoughts. From the occasional glance alone, Clary could tell Jace wanted to think about anything other than their argument, but equally that it ate at him in a way she hadn't witnessed since he thought himself the demon-blooded son of Valentine. For her part, she remained no closer to forgiving him than she'd been before the exchange, but there had at least been  _some_ kind of development on the issue, hurtful and jarring as it was. Cyd's assertion that she was Jace's girlfriend, and Jace's pained reaction to her denial, haunted her, needling questions propping up with every block they drove about just what it was Jace had experienced over the past year.

And, if not with her, then with whom?

The implication that someone had been using her image to toy with Jace, that they'd potentially been doing so even within the Institute and without anyone's notice, made her skin crawl and her stomach churn. If just the notion of it could get to her this much, she couldn't imagine what Jace must have been going through right now, and for that her heart went out to him. Distantly, she wondered if Alec and Magnus might be able to help him through it, knowing they'd suffered something similar at the hand of Azazel, but imagined Jace would never go for it.

Too proud. Too ashamed. Too afraid.

As Luke pulled up to the dark and ragged lot surrounding the ruins, he finally broke the silence, turning around in his seat to look back at Clary, Jace, and the sleeping twins. "You guys... uh... want me to stick around... ?" His eyes shifted to Clary in particular, unspoken words passing between them.

Clary smiled in gratitude. "Thanks, but we've got it from here." Her expression turned hesitant as she glanced Jace's way, and Luke knew things remained far from resolved between them. Leaving it at that for now, Clary set about gathering Naia back into her arms and working her way out of Luke's car.

Across the seat, Jace did the same with Jimmy, a stray hand conveying his thanks through a pat of Luke's seat. Beyond that, however, he uttered not a word, avoiding eye contact and hastily exiting the vehicle so he wouldn't have to stomach any well-deserved looks of condescension and judgement.

Unfortunately, Clary wasn't so easily dissuaded, attacking the problem head-on the very minute Luke began pulling away. "Jace, can we—?"

"No."

His familiarly abrupt and authoritative avoidance infuriated her, and she had to struggle to keep her cool. "The whole problem was you closing yourself off! Doing it again isn't going to fix anything!"

He stopped his march towards the ruins with a sigh, his head hanging. "I... I know, Clary."

She blinked in surprise, walking up beside him and adjusting Naia so she could look him in the eye. "You do?" she questioned, the fact that she believed him honestly scaring her. In this moment, she could see his fear and uncertainty had taken over his usually cocky and composed exterior. That such a state was even possible for Jace chilled her bones, and she couldn't help but feel a deep sympathy for him despite her lingering contempt.

He looked away from her, unsettled by her close proximity. "Yeah. And, I promise you, we  _will_ talk about it, just..." His eyes searched the darkness. She wished they'd draw to her, but his inner turmoil kept them averted. "I'm going to need some time to... you know." Thinking back to Magnus, she knew, even if Jace lacked the words to adequately express it. "Besides, we have to take care of Gemini first."

It'd have to do for now. At least she'd gotten a vow to continue their discussion later, which was far more than she'd gotten a year ago. "Fair enough," she conceded, hiking Naia higher up her waist and turning to survey their surroundings. The last time they'd come here, the shroud of night had hidden from them the scattered rubble and unkempt lawns. Signs of a long-since-past humanity still dotted the grounds in the form of forgotten furniture, tools, and equipment whose identities had warped beyond recognition with time. "Geez... Even during the day, this place gives me the creeps. At least it's not crawling with demons, I hope?"

"No," Jace muttered darkly. "Just some Shadowhunters modified  _with_ demons. No big, right?"

His answer was a sharp point to the small of his back.

"Where. Is. Cyd."

Clary jumped, not expecting the blade suddenly held to her own spine as well - though, in retrospect, she really should have. Though she could see Malina scowling behind Jace, she couldn't get a look at the person behind her, and nor was Malina allowing Jace to turn enough to see them. Still, even without the aid of a voice or visage, she could tell the person was terribly nervous, frightened even, simply from the way the weapon trembled against the fall of her jacket.

Jace grinned, and Clary rolled her eyes, having a pretty good idea what was about to come out of his mouth. "Gee, Malina, I didn't figure you for the BDSM scene! You should've told me, I would've brought my fuzzy handcuffs."

Without Cyd to hold her back, Malina slashed her Seraph blade across the back of his shirt, though at least showed restraint enough to do little more than nick his skin.

"Ow!" he hissed, arms reflexively clenching around Jimmy. "Jesus, what gives?"

Clary cut in before he could continue digging his hole. "He was attacked. Some Shadowhunter we haven't seen before... Chester Starsong?"

The knife at her back stilled, and Malina slowly turned her head from Jace to her, looking her over with one eye carefully obscured behind her dark hair. A silence endured between them, thankfully undisturbed by any more of Jace's wisecracking, before Malina finally ventured, "You got any proof?"

Cyd's cryptic message flickered in the back of Clary's memory. "Yes! Yes, he said... um..." Her face screwed up as she tried to remember the nonsensical phrase. "He said to tell you... something about burning... ?" She watched Malina's face twist with impatience before she at last grasped the line from amid her flurry of frantic thoughts. "Oh! He said, 'No flame burns brighter than iron,'" she finally recited. Her eyes remained trained on Malina, warily watching in case the young woman didn't like what she heard.

She certainly took her time debating the matter, that was for sure. Malina's lips pursed, and her one visible eye gradually scaled Clary head-to-toe in careful survey of every last detail. Clary could still see the paranoia in that single eye, the needling suspicion that something wasn't right, that a trap had been laid at every corner, that no matter how much she hid or fought or argued or cooperated the world would never truly be safe. On some level, Clary could relate, and it drove her all the more to discover what terrible thing could have happened to make Malina like this.

Eventually, she seemed to accept Clary's words, or at least judged it to be a safer option than executing the pair of them right then and there. Her eyes shifted to find the person behind Clary, and with a curt nod she finally lowered her blade.

Clary heaved a sigh of relief as she felt her jacket return to its natural hang. Her heart raced, still running off the adrenaline of being held at knife-point and now taxed with the almost fearful anticipation of meeting another of Cyd's companions. She turned around, fully expecting to find them aggressively snarling at her, or to perhaps have some kind of threat spat in her face.

Instead, she and Jace found a timid young woman, her flushed face downturned and her hands held low before her, nervously fidgeting with her small, dagger-sized Seraph blade. She was a solid few years their junior, but maybe a couple years older than Malina - even still, everything about her deferred to the younger girl, to the extent Clary had trouble conceiving how such a person could come to associate with the likes of Cyd in the first place. She was wholly different from all of them, save for perhaps Jimmy and Naia, gentle where they were harsh and quiet where they were loud. This fact alone made Clary and Jace both far more inclined to work with her than any of the others, and to some extent made them question the nature of her relationship with them - was it perhaps forced upon her, or was she bound by some kind of bureaucratic arrangement?

Malina shoved her way past the two of them, bringing them both to realize they'd started staring at the unassuming newcomer. "Let's go," she snapped, marching towards the abandoned hospital in a huff. "We need to get Gemini their medication."

The girl gasped, looking up at Malina before suddenly hurrying past them all. "R-Right, yes!" she squeaked, her long, dark orange hair bouncing about as she ran. Despite the length of her beige skirt, she appeared to have no trouble at all skittering across the crumbling cement and exposed rebars, covering the distance without so much as a trip or precarious stumble.

Clary recovered first from the odd scene, securing her hold of Naia as she caught up with Malina. "So, um... Does your friend have a name?" she ventured.

Malina shot her a look that screamed  _Are you stupid_ _?_ as she scoffed, "'Friend,' huh?" Rolling her eyes, she kicked aside a fallen cement block and jogged the rest of the way up the hospital's steps. "Yeah. She's got a name."

"You know, that's usually the part where you tell us what it is," Jace haughtily pointed out. To anyone but Clary, he seemed his normal, narcissistic self, eyes out for any opportunity to slip in a light jab or crude remark. After knowing him for so long, however, she could hear the slight falter in his voice and see the delicate threads holding his mask in place.

Nonetheless, it got a genuine laugh out of Malina as she threw open the hospital's rusted and warped door, leaving Clary and Jace to either catch it or dart in before it slammed shut. "Oh, don't worry, Herondale," she snickered, successfully throwing the name at him like it was a soiled rag. "She'll introduce herself to _you_ soon enough."

They shared a confused look at Malina's remark, but didn't have much time to think on it before something else piqued their curiosities. They'd only walked maybe three feet into the dank, musty ruins before the peculiar sound tickled their eardrums. Malina appeared undeterred by the distant and uneven rhythm, so at first they presumed it to be the result of ancient plumbing or some kind of reinstated machinery. As they continued down the hall, however, the sound took on a decidedly more...  _organic_ nature...

The source broke through the darkness right as it dawned on them just what the sound was.

" _C'est... C'est bon, c'est bon_!"

"Ahh! _Oui_ , Daraiya... _Mon amour_ , let me hear you  _chanter_!"

" _Mon frère, plus vite_! Please, _plus vite_!!!"

Malina sighed as she walked passed them, doing her best to avoid eye-contact. "We have _guests_ ," she barked over their enraptured chorus.

Mar was able to deliriously grin over his shoulder easily enough, offering them a drifting wave of his hand. " _Bienvenue, mes amis_!"

From the way Mar had her, exposed chest pressed against the wall's harsh chill and arms caught at her back in a firm, commanding hold, Daraiya couldn't very well turn to greet them - though, nor did she appear to really  _want_ to, an exhibitionist glee worsening the desperation of her frantic pleas.

Jace and Clary thanked the hall's pitiful lighting for hiding their rampant flushes as they rushed by without so much as a second glance, Clary's hand reflexively clapping over Naia's sleeping eyes. The echoes of Mar and Daraiya's passion resounded after them along the cement walls for far longer than they would have preferred, inspiring Jace to try and cover it up with idle chatter. Problem was, he couldn't seem to get his mind passed what they'd just witnessed.

"I... That was... Didn't Magnus say they were siblings?"

"Yes, Jace."

"I mean, I guess we... But, we were never  _actually_ —"

"Please stop."

"Waist-up, Daraiya's actually pretty hot. But can you even imagine—"

" _No_ , Jace, and I don't want to. Where's Malina?"

They finally caught up with her before a familiar set of double-doors, the surrounding graffiti momentarily slipping them back to the first night they'd tried to stop Valentine. The memory sent chills down their spines, and a part of them resented the irreverent way Malina barreled through the doors as though this place held no meaning, no history, no significance. To her, it was little more than a shelter, one whose place in time was as inconsequential as the bugs she crushed beneath her booted feet. "Fucking roaches," she grumbled, taking her anger out on the helpless pests. Instinctively, her hands lifted to lower her hood, but as her fingers touched the frayed hem she hesitated and glanced over her shoulder at them. Her continued paranoia shone in the single hazel eye staring back at them, even here in the abandoned hospital's pervasive gloom. Hands falling to her sides, hood left securely in place, she turned and walked across the large room to where the other girl had knelt beside two flat, lumpy bundles. "Come on, this way. Lay them down over there." She gestured toward her counterpart, meanwhile derailing towards an old couch, a single sheet protecting her collapse upon its cushions from whatever springs and molded padding had broken through its ancient upholstery.

The other girl turned her head as Jace and Clary walked up behind her, a tiny smile curling her lips though her eyes remained stubbornly averted. "Here," she faintly whispered, shifting aside and running a hand along one of the makeshift beds she'd fashioned out of gathered brush and decades-old medical scrubs. Some wadded gauze served as tiny pillows, and two trash bags laid to the side, ready to blanket the young twins. "It... probably isn't very comfortable," she admitted, an intense guilt dampening her voice, "but it's... it's the best we can do, for now." She looked over at Malina, but received no reply - Malina was curled up against one side of the couch, her arm folded over her head as if protecting it from some unseen threat, or perhaps hiding it from view.

Clary offered a warm smile, determined to take advantage of what very well could be their best chance at gaining real headway with the strange group. "Thank you," she replied, lowering Naia into one of the nests and tucking her in.

"Yeah," Jace belatedly replied, setting Jimmy in kind. He awkwardly glanced between Clary and their soft-spoken host, an odd familiarity tickling the back of his mind. Pushing it aside for now, he sat back upon his knees and wiped his hands off on his jeans before extending one towards her. "So, um... My name's—"

"Jace Herondale," she replied with a tiny smile, ignoring his hand and still refusing to meet his gaze. "I'm Vanessa. And, you..." Her head inched slightly in Clary's direction, and a sudden sadness slipped back into her voice. "You're... Clary Fray... right?"

Clary threw a questioning glance at Jace, but received only an uncertain shrug as his hand lowered to fold awkwardly along the other. "Yeah. It's... It's nice to meet you, Vanessa."

Vanessa smiled and nodded her head, then turned her attentions to her lap. Only then did they notice she'd gathered her skirt into a little bundle - as she delicately peeled away the folds, she revealed two medical packets, a syringe and tiny glass vial held securely within each. They drew concerned frowns across both Jace and Clary's faces, only Vanessa's calm and composed manner convincing them to stay their hands... for now, at least. They watched on as she carefully opened one packet and extracted its syringe, then expertly sank its long, thin needle through the vial's rubber stopper.

It was difficult to tell in the sparse lighting, but Clary swore the liquid held the appearance and consistency of blood, and she couldn't keep quiet any longer. "What is that stuff?" she asked, discarding social tact in favor of an active defense of Jimmy and Naia's well-being. "The... 'medication' Malina mentioned?"

Even just that was harsh enough to make Vanessa gasp softly, her expression crumpling. "Y-Yes," she murmured. She appeared to wrestle with herself for a moment, then held the filled syringe out to Clary. "Here, you... you can administer it, if... if you'd prefer..."

As Clary warily picked up the syringe and looked it over, Jace leaned forward with a low huff. "It's not a matter of who's giving it to them," he asserted, reaching out to take the other packet.

His sudden intrusion into her personal bubble earned a startled squeak out of Vanessa, one hand snapping to cover her mouth as she recoiled. In spite of herself, she'd at last fully lifted her face to stare wide-eyed at Jace, baring a full and unimpeded view of her pale violet eyes, their clarity gleaming like shards of pale, diluted amethyst. A familiarity slithered amid their sheen despite the strange color, sending a silent scream through his mind though he couldn't for the life of him discern why. Anyway, there was a far more accessible discovery to grasp, his expression twisting with almost horrified wonder.

"You're... a Seelie... ?"

Embarrassment swept across her face, and she quickly turned away, face defiantly downcast once more. Clary leaned around with renewed intrigue, but Vanessa kept her thick locks draped like a veil around her face, obscuring any further details either Shadowhunter might have otherwise been able to grasp. Her head turned towards the twins, desperate to abandon Jace's hanging question. "That medicine... It's... The Clave made it."

"What?" Clary gawked, looking down to the syringe in her hand. She rolled it between her fingers, the Angelic Power rune rolling up along its surface. "Why? What's in it?"

Vanessa turned her head to regard Malina, still curled up on the couch. Paying attention to her now, they realized she'd taken to grumbling under her breath, the sound distinctly pained. With a sigh, Vanessa replied, "I'm sorry, I... I don't really know for certain. We think the main ingredient must be Angelic blood, but it's not very pure. It makes us ill, you see..." She turned back toward the twins, then delicately crawled closer to Jimmy and sit beside him, knees drawing up to her chest. From there, they could see her face better, but she kept her eyes averted, and the room's thick shadows made it difficult to discern the details of her features. A tiny smile took residence upon her face as she idly drew her fingertips fondly through Jimmy's hair, but it quickly faded when the shifting of his locks revealed the dark bruise from where Chester concussed him. "It'll... be difficult to see with them, but... it 'normalizes' us. Without its help, they may not be able to resurface on their own."

Neither of them could really believe their ears, no matter how unabashedly sincere Vanessa seemed. It occurred to them the others may have lied to her, and that she truly thought all of it true herself - they hoped that to be the case as Jace parted his lips and, with some difficulty, tried to express their doubt without crushing her. "Vanessa, all of that... Doesn't it sound even a little crazy to you?" Already, her hands began to clutch the fabric of her dress, and he quickly backtracked for fear she might soon break down into tears. "Not that  _you're_ crazy, just... I mean, you're asking us to believe that the Clave has been mass-producing some kind of..." He examined the packet in his hands, still bewildered by the vial's eerily crimson liquid. "...some kind of elixir meant specifically for your friends?"

Something about what he said drew pause, her fingers releasing her dress. "J-Jace, we... we aren't—"

"Perhaps a demonstration for  _nos invités_?"

Clary and Jace started at the sudden voice raining down on them, their faces snapping up to find Mar and Daraiya precariously perched atop thin, rusting banisters. Obscured though they were by the shadows blanketing the ceiling, Clary and Jace could still make out their elegant poise, and the slender taper of their demonic legs. Their work uniforms had been replaced with dark, tight shorts and vibrant, airy blouses, as though a pair of figure skaters had discovered how to glide along metal instead of ice.

Before anyone could stop them, they stepped off and dropped down from their roost, the rush of wind rustling the folds of their shirts and blowing their silver hair back from their manic faces. Clary and Jace jerked away for fear of being speared by their pointed legs, but faith in their accuracy held Vanessa still. The unshakable trust proved well-deserved, the two Mantid-legged siblings slamming down to either side of Vanessa and the unconscious twins, their grins widened with adrenaline.

All headway flew out the window as Clary and Jace jumped to their feet, Seraph blades drawn and faintly glowing in their hands. Seeing them like that inspired Vanessa to stand as well, hands raised and finally actually looking at them in her absent-minded alarm. "N-No, stop! It's alright!" she desperately tried to assure, pale eyes faintly glistening.

While they warily considered Vanessa's words, Daraiya laughed, a hand sliding around her shoulders and pulling her close. "Worry not,  _petite soeur_ ," she purred, watching them with a smile gleaming in her verdant eyes. Her hand adjusted to cup the side of Vanessa's head as she pressed a kiss into her thick hair. "They are outnumbered. It would be  _bête_ for them to try anything."

"Yes," Mar agreed with a tender hand sliding along Vanessa's back. Leaving the girls' sides, he stalked toward Clary and Jace with a catwalk gait, nose upturned and arms elegantly hanging at his sides. "Especially after  _l'embarras de_ last night's dance." As he'd predicted, neither of them dared to challenge Mar as he closed in, allowing him to go so far as to lift Clary's chin with delicate, long fingers.

In part to maintain an image of perhaps bravery or strength, Clary's eyes flickered to Daraiya, eyeing the way Vanessa had instinctively begun leaning into the crazed woman's embrace. "You said... ' _soeur_ '? Vanessa is your sister, too?"

Daraiya's sharp laugh cut through the air, a hand soon thereafter lifting to daintily lay upon her lips while she  _tsk tsk tsk_ 'd. Mar meanwhile took to smirking, his hand shifting to lovingly cup Clary's face - after what she and Jace had witnessed in the hall, it made her skin crawl, holding none of the charm she'd felt in the cafe. " _Ma cherie_ , can you not see the resemblance?"

She wasn't sure whether or not he was mocking her. It was true they'd noticed something subtle threading all of them together, including the twins, Cyd, and Malina, but surely they couldn't  _all_ be related... could they? Throwing a questioning glance at Jace, she found him actually thinking through it, astonished belief (and was that a hint of awe?) slowly working its way across his features. The retreat of Mar's hand pulled her stare back at Mar, subconsciously taking an emptied vial as he pressed it into her sword-hand.

All flamboyance had suddenly disappeared from him, leaving behind a distant look she remembered seeing Cyd wear in the alley behind the Jade Wolf. "We all are," he softly replied, taking a few steps back and twirling a filled syringe in his fingers.

"Wait,  _excuse_ me?" Jace interjected. "By 'all,' you mean... you two, Vanessa... Cyd? Malina?"

Mar's head shifted to regard Jace as his arm rose before him. "And Gemini," he added with a small nod, his hand bringing the syringe to his bicep. Still locked with Jace's gaze, he stabbed himself with the syringe and sank the full injection into himself, little more than a mild flinch betraying the pain it inflicted. Soon enough, however, his stance began to falter, and it took visible effort for him to maintain eye contact.

"Mar!" Daraiya cried out, abandoning Vanessa as he suddenly lost balance. She slipped in under Mar just in time to catch his fall, holding him tight against her, Vanessa worriedly watching from where she still lingered by the twins.

Clary and Jace stared on in a surprised kind of terror Mar's legs began to warp. The greenish hue faded away to the same gentle chocolate that blanketed his arms and face. Their hardened sheen muted into a soft, matte finish, muscles starting to take form as their hardened shells melted into rolling flesh. They thinned in some places towards the top, and thickened significantly down through to their points - points which were swiftly becoming decidedly not-points. Soon, the edges of his knees broke through their otherwise smooth contour, and then the bumps of his ankles and the divisions between his toes. When all was said and done, he struggled to stand upright with his arms wrapped about Daraiya. His legs were shaking and atrophied, but wholly human nonetheless.

"You  _fucking_ idiot!!!" Malina barked, snatching the medical packet from Jace and the syringe from Clary. The two had been so shocked by Mar's transformation, they hadn't even noticed her vacate the couch, much less hear her approach. "You're absolutely  _useless_ like that!" she hissed, though she barely even looked at him as she stomped past him over to Vanessa and the twins. "And what for? So you could give the Golden Child and his Top Bitch some goosebumps?"

"Hey!" Clary snapped, beyond done with Malina's flippant remarks. "There's no reason for you to talk to us like that! Or..." She hesitated, warily glancing at Mar and Daraiya. They still gave her the creeps, especially remembering the prior night, but even still she couldn't help but feel like Malina was being more than a little harsh. "...or Mar. I'm sure he was just trying to help," she reasoned, unable to stop her eyes from flickering between his face and his legs.

He smirked at her, and she almost regretted defending him. " _Merci_. It's alright, though..." Adjusting himself against Daraiya for better leverage, he turned his head to grin after Malina. "She's just upset she has to go fish now."

If Jace's face hadn't looked bewildered before, it certainly did now. "What? Fish?"

"Oui." Daraiya lifted a hand to loosely gesture beyond the hospital. "We won't find the best fish in this river, but it's food, and it's free. Well, if the police don't catch you, anyhow."

"H-Hey, wait!" Clary suddenly cried, hastily moving a few steps towards the twins.

Malina was crouching beside Naia, Vanessa having meanwhile opened and begun filling the other syringe. She glared up at Clary, holding Naia's arm in one hand and positioning the needle with the other. "What?" she bit, but showed no sign of stopping, the needle finding its catch and sinking past Naia's lightly tanned skin.

She'd intended on stopping Malina, but it seemed pointless now. Anyway, Vanessa was doing the same with Jimmy, and it was impossible to imagine Vanessa harboring any kind of malcontent towards the children. With a sigh and shake of her head, she muttered, "Nothing, I guess..."

Malina rolled her eyes, and for a moment Clary thought she glimpsed a sliver of yellow through her long strands of black hair. Perhaps more curious, though, was the thick, dark stripe above and below where Malina's eye would be - a rune of some sort? "Well, if you're not going to fish," Malina grumbled, shoving Clary defiantly out of mind, "the least you could do is go check on Clive."

Mar shrugged. " _Comme tu veux, petite soeur_."

"You know none of the  _rest_ of us speak French, right?"

Daraiya  _tsk tsk_ 'd her. "You should learn. It is a beautiful language!" She turned to Vanessa next, awkwardly half-walking, half-dragging Mar towards the younger girl. "Take him for me, _ma douce fleur_?"

It was single-handedly the most successful attempt thus far to coax Vanessa out of her withdrawal. She turned her face up to smile fully at Daraiya, beamed even at the pet name, as though being called a "flower" was the absolute very best compliment in the whole world. "Yes, of course!" she airily chirped, hands already moving to take her chuckling brother into her arms. A moment later, however, realization sobered her face, and she began to glance anxiously towards Jace and Clary. "You... Um... You're going to go fish... ?"

" _Oui_ ," the eldest sister replied with a knowing smirk. With nothing more to say on the matter, she turned on a delicate point and stalked towards the double-doors, plucking Jace's shirt and earning a defensive swat of her hand. "Come along, little cherubs," she chuckled as she walked. Neither of them could say for sure whether she dropped the French at Malina's request or out of insult, as though they weren't worthy of such elegant words. "Help me fetch lunch, and I'll tell you all about our...  _enchanting_ little family, hmm?"

Truth be told, they hadn't expected to receive the offer in so upfront a manner. With the exchange of a questioning look, Clary shrugged. "We came here for answers, after all... What's the worse that could happen?"

"I can think of a few things," Jace remarked with a brow raised after Daraiya, thinking back to the previous night. "But, if it's just the one of them, we should be fine?"

Apparently, Daraiya overheard him, a short snort echoing through the large room.

Clary sighed and shook her head. "Better than being surrounded in here, anyway..." She tossed a final, worried glance over her shoulder to Jimmy and Naia. Oddly enough, they seemed somehow more peaceful - she wondered if that wasn't simply wishful thinking, but there wasn't anything more she could do for them now. "We'll be back to check on them later," she said to Malina, half-assuring and half-warning.

Malina barely even acknowledged her, waving her off but otherwise ignoring her as she settled in between the twins.

Jace rolled his eyes at her, then turned to follow Clary and Daraiya. He moved swiftly, something in the back of his mind still bothered by the small gathering of siblings. Even still, he managed to catch a couple faint remarks. By their lowered tone, he could tell he wasn't supposed to have heard them.

"So... You tell him,  _petite soeur_?"

"Ah... N-No... Later, maybe..."

" _Qui sera, sera._ "


	12. When They Come For Me

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cC4LQV2tf8&index=12&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

The boy grinned as he paraded out through the Institute's heavy, wooden doors, coming up to one of the short ledges extending from the mansion's exterior wall. "I'm a full-grown man, now!" he boasted to the two children seated there, fists pressed to his hips. Two long strips of light beige flannel wrapped his torso in a makeshift, loose tunic, his legs bound in tight black denim. His hair was black as his pants, his eyes an incongruous hazel, and his skin awkwardly straddled the difference between his shirt and his slacks with an ashen hue. Of all the Institute's residents, he stood out the most by far, the bony, black masses folded at his back and hiding beneath his wrap only serving to worsen the point. "That means you gotta do what I say!"

Cyd rolled his eyes, reflexively hugging the girl under his arm closer to him. "As if you don't already act that way." He was noticeably smaller than his brother, but no less intimidating. Most of that came courtesy of the fog which had taken over his eyes, making it nigh impossible to tell just exactly what he was looking at. His attire claimed slightly more color than his brother's, opting for dark navy in his slacks and colorful graphics printed across his T-shirts. Mostly, they were band shirts he'd selected more for their appearance than whatever music they played, the sides cut off for airy comfort and to show off his muscles.

Another girl, this one leaning against the mansion's dirty, vine-streaked cobblestone, idly plucked a loose thread from her silken corset. "He _is_  the oldest," she pointed out. Fair of skin and brown of hair and eyes, she would have been the plainest of them all if not for the abnormally slight nature of her entire mid-section. The way her shoulders rested atop her corset made it seem like she wore the metal-boned garment more for the support it provided than any sort of slimming effect. Indeed, it may very well have even added to her waist rather than sucked it in. Whatever its purpose, she apparently took great pride in it, selecting corsets with brilliant colors and elegant patterns dancing across their shimmering ribs. Her black leather slacks continued the corset's appealing highlighting all the way down her legs, ending in red pumps that made it clear she had no intention of physically exerting herself today. She looked up from her ministrations to deliver a devious smirk. "Besides, seems to me you  _love_ obeying him."

He snarled at her, hands balling into fists. "Shut up, Psiren." Pushing her from his mind, he set his glower back on his brother. "Anyway, you're only 16. You can't even pick up a handle down at Gold Hill."

The elder brother frowned, arms raising to fold across his broad chest. "That place doesn't even  _sell_  handles. You gotta go all the way down into Boulder for those!"

"Sure they do!" Cyd insisted, though his manner sounded utterly unsure.

The girl beside him rolled her pretty blue eyes, then delicately removed herself from under his arm so she could stand up. "Anyway, where's Ig?" With blonde hair, fair skin, and black attire head-to-toe, the only thing keeping her on par with the others was her unabashed attitude. They were incredibly thankful for her company, pleased to have someone "normal" to hang out with, though they never really said as much. She turned to the older boy, concern drawn across her simple features. "He skipping out again?"

"Just for the birthing," he offered with a shrug. A wide grin broke out across his grey features, bringing a look of danger to his already foreboding appearance. "Why? Lookin' to give him a birthday gift?"

Despite his threatening looks, or perhaps because of it, she swiftly threw a sharp slap across his face, to the supreme glee of the other two. "It's none of your business!" she barked. "I was just wondering!" As much as she contested the point, a soft flush had taken to her cheeks, one that would not go unnoticed.

The eldest smirked, one hand idly rubbing the cheek she'd struck. "None of us are even legal yet. Not by Mundie standards, anyway..." He fell back to lean against the wall beside Psiren, his arms arching up and over to weave his fingers behind his head. "You still got a solid three years of unrequited pining before Dad'll let you try  _him_ on for size."

Not wanting things to escalate further, Cyd stood up from the ledge and cut in, one rubbing along his bald head out of habit. "He's with Mom," he offered, hand idly wandering further down the back of his head. His fingertips gingerly traced the scar there, then trailed lower to find the bases of his three hanging tendrils. Even after nine years of having them, he still wasn't quite used to their presence, though he'd at least grown accustomed to the hair loss. He kept his insecurities hidden well enough from the rest of his siblings, but he'd learned long ago there was very little he could keep from these two in particular and the blonde. "He's supposed to help Dad with the operations later, so Mom's making him practice. Dad said he'll be joining for the prayer and naming ceremony, though?"

His answer proved enough to get her to drop her beef with his brother. Still, as much as she appreciated his answer, it left her worried again. "I heard your dad's not waiting the usual period for today's births. Is that why he wants Ig helping out? What's the deal?"

Psiren's eyes narrowed upon her, lips pursing. "What is this, 20 Questions? Since when did you care what Dad does with us?"

"Since she started thirsting," the ashen brother chided.

Her face grew red-hot again. "You two don't think it's a little weird? He learned  _years_ ago the transplants don't take well with underdeveloped subjects."

Cyd bristled at that particular word choice, suddenly no longer interested in sticking around. "Well, he deemed it necessary for today's 'subjects.' Sorry if that ruins your plans."

Her expression crumpled as she belatedly realized her misstep. "Cyd, come on. I'm—"

"Leave him be, Liandra." The older boy stood up from the wall and rustled his torso again, this time enough to loosen up the cloth lengths draped about him. The large masses hiding beneath them adjusted as well, and eventually pushed them off completely as they extended into a set of magnificent bat-like wings. They stretched out to their full span as he yawned, blocking Liandra from following Cyd back inside the mansion. "You meant what you said. No use tryin' to hide it."

Liandra looked to Psiren for help, but the sister merely shrugged, then turned to follow her brother back inside. "Have fun!" she airily bid them with a negligent wave of her hand.

With a raised brow, Liandra turned back to the winged Shadowhunter, staring in particular at the Healing rune traced directly above his heart. "I take it you're heading out?"

"What gave you  _that_ impression?" As his wings folded closer to his body, he walked past her towards the dense forest surrounding the mansion. The two flannel strips of his wrap hung from a band about his waist like the panels of an ancient tabbard, rustling almost elegantly around his legs with his every step. "I'm hungry," he idly explained, "and Cyd needs more venom." He drew his stele from his back pocket and passed it over the Strength and Stamina runes decorating his right pec like the circling halves of a ying-yang. From the way he grinned over his shoulder at her, she could see the high the runes gave him, the kind of power that one day, if left unchecked, would lead him to truly think himself a god. "Let's see if we can't lure a Ravener or two out of their hovels, huh?"

Her jaw set, but she turned and walked up behind him, eyes flickering towards the parabatai rune barely visible against the grey flesh of his left shoulder-blade. "Fine. But only because Cyd'll kill me if you get hurt out there."

He laughed as he felt Liandra's arms twine around his neck, crouching a bit to assist her clamber onto his back. "Right. Because those whelps are  _sooo_ fucking dangerous." He gave his wings a couple warm-up pumps, hands meanwhile finding Liandra's legs and hooking securely under the crooks of her knees. Then, with a full beat of his wings, he shot up into the clear, cloudless sky, the pair of them taking flight upon the crisp wind.

* * *

Alec held up a hand, stopping Liandra as she spoke. "Wait, so you mean to tell me there's a whole Institute filled with..."

"Blights," Liandra filled in, noting his hesitance.

He scowled. "I'm not calling them that." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and sat back, arms folding low across his chest. His mind flickered to Cyd, remembering the Ravener tendril constricting around his neck. A chill raced down his spine. "And you... lived with them... ?" he asked, trying his best to be delicate about it.

"And dated them," she replied pointedly. "If we're to be open about things, let's do so frankly." Her stare hardened as she settled back into her chair, looking something like a bored queen despite the position Alec had her in. "I aim to snuff out any petty little doubts you might have about my loyalties, whether or not you support my mission. I won't have you harboring any lingering regrets about this interrogation."

"Fair enough. How long did you live there? How many of these... 'birthings,' as you called them... did you eventually come to witness?"

Liandra shuddered as a stray memory skittered along the fringes of her mind. "I never  _witnessed_ them. Maven ran all of that in the dungeons below the mansion." Her expression softened somewhat, much to Alec's curiosity - she looked as though some lingering fondness or sympathy punctuated her otherwise festering resentment. "He insisted the whole operation involve as few of us as possible. That way, if things ever went sour, we could claim a degree of innocence within reasonable doubt."

Alec peaked a brow. "Or, so you couldn't report on what he was doing if the Clave ever wanted to investigate."

She conceded the point with a nod. "He was right to worry. A lot of us started losing faith in him once he started experimenting with Seelies... Seemed to be a bit unnecessary."

He couldn't suppress a laugh at the notion. " _That_ is what you consider 'unnecessary'? Not the wings, the tendrils, the contortionist - the Mantid legs?" She hadn't mentioned Mar and Daraiya by name, but Alec had plenty of context to know they hailed from the same bizarre Institute as the rest of them.

The look she set upon him was relentless. She knew how insane all of it sounded, and she met it all headfirst with not a sliver of doubt or shame. "We were desperate, Mr. Lightwood. The Clave had been ignoring our calls for help for..." She faded only insofar as she momentarily recalled just how long it'd been. Ultimately, she didn't have an exact answer, shrugging and shaking her head. "I wasn't born until after Caine, Maven's first success. Even a handful of years later, when I could begin grasping the world for myself, things remained bleak. The Blights were our final hope at surviving."

His eyes slipped over the Searph blades sheathed at her hips and the incriminating cell phone laying upon his desk. "You don't seem very grateful."

She scoffed at his remark, and took her time before finally responding. "...What you meant to ask was how many generations of Blights there were by the end of it all. Maven Ironflame fathered twenty-four generations—"

" _What_?!" Alec interjected, jerking out of what had become a weary slouch in his chair. "Twenty-four...  _generations_? By the Angel..."

A part of her took delight in Alec's bewildered stare. "Artificial insemination," she smirked. "He used multiple mothers, all of them either demons or Downworlders. In this way, after the success of Caine, he was able to expand the number of subjects the Institute could produce."

He felt sick to his stomach. At least this time, he knew it had nothing to do with Liandra. "You mean children.  _Infants_. Helpless babies that he just... !"

"As I said, Mr. Lightwood," she continued, her glare sharp, "we were desperate. In any event, only twenty-three generations were born, of which only eighteen received transplants. Maven eventually determined postponing the operations until they were five years of age minimized the mortality rate. Gemini's generation, the seventeenth, was the only exception to this standard, once it'd been established."

Alec felt like he was swimming in a fantasy world. It was an odd thing to feel when you spent your life hunting creatures most of the world didn't even believe in, and it unsettled him in ways he couldn't fully express. There were so many questions to ask, so many more than he'd started with, and he had so much information to suss through before he could confidently say he had a commanding grasp of things. His eyes returned to Liandra, and though he still felt lost he at least knew where to start. Before he got further consumed by the horrifying details of Maven Ironflame and his bizarre Institute, he had to finish establishing the general picture.

He had to begin with where it ended, with what had eventually led to their arrival in New York and the deaths of two Shadowhunters in as many days.

"So what happened? To the twenty-fourth, I mean."

A distance enveloped Liandra, stilling her very breath in memory. Her hand subconsciously moved to touch her forearm, and for a moment Alec thought he glimpsed the edges of seared flesh poking out from under her sleeve.

"...Caine happened."

* * *

The wooden door splintered at the hinges as an intensely muscled boy burst through. Mar and Daraiya slipped in around him to the sound of shrieking, the young woman's arms clutching the babes clasped to four of her six breasts. "What the hell?!" Her face shone a bright red from equal parts rage and embarrassment, her knees kicking up onto the bed to try and conceal herself behind her skirt.

Daraiya bounded towards her, swatting her legs down and catching her wrist. "We have to go, Sano," she urgently commanded, voice thick with her French accent.

In her struggle to keep the infants secure, Sano lost her balance, toppling onto the bed. The four tiny children fell upon the white, down duvet, their toothless mouths opening wide to fill the air with hungry cries. "Ohh, look what you've done!" she fussed, yanking her arm about in an unsuccessful vie for freedom. "Damn it, Daraiya, let me  _go_!" She shot a defiant glare at her sister, only then noting Mar had stayed behind with Bradley, both boys standing with their backs to them. In another time and place, she might have offered a snide comment about faux decency, but Bradley's head was sticking out into the hall, frantically looking back and forth in an almost paranoid survey, and Mar held his rapier before him, raised and ready to strike at the slightest hint of a threat.

Daraiya's hand found and cupped Sano's soft cheek, elegantly manicured nails glinting in the nursery's soft candlelight. " _Ma sœur_... We are in danger." The tears building in Sano's eyes and the trembling of her lips broke Daraiya's heart, but now more than ever she knew she had to be strong, had to bury her own pain and fear so she could take on that of her sister's. "Father and Liandra have betrayed us. They brought the Clave to our doorstep. Mick and Dea are holding them off in the foyer, but it will only be a matter of time before they fall."

"W-What?" Sano's voice choked. Her confusion ran rampant upon her face, glistening hazel eyes flickering anxiously to the doorway beneath her gentle, chocolate waves. Soon enough, her anguish turned to anger, her brow furrowing at her brothers. How could they so easily resign themselves to the deaths of their brother and sister? "Then why are you here? Go and  _help_ them!"

"Kita is with them, as well as the eighth and ninth gens." Despite her best efforts, none of her words appeared to bring any comfort to her sister. She gave it up with a shake of her head. "Come, now. We have to evacuate you and the others."

Sano continued fighting her, hot tears breaking free. "The 'others'?" she scowled, heavy with guilt. "You mean those of us unsuited for fighting. Vanessa, Clive, Gemini..."

"Sano—"

Suddenly, the tip of Mar's rapier sliced across the wall beside them, startling both girls. The sheared wallpaper curled back to reveal a thin gap in the wood. "We don't have time for this!" he snapped. His blade pierced through to a higher point of the gap, then abruptly rent all the way down, until an entire edge of the hidden doorway had been exposed. About halfway through, his blade momentarily caught upon the lock, but it was nothing a forceful yank couldn't remedy well enough.

Daraiya sighed as they watched him, hooking her rapier in her belt and drawing out her stele. " _Désolé_ , Sano."

Alerted by that single, foreign word, one of only a few she understood, Sano revived her attempts to free her wrist. "What? Daraiya,  _no_! You can't!"

Without letting go, Daraiya slipped her stele under her blouse to ignite her hidden Strength rune. A surge of power pulsed through her, plenty enough to scoop Sano effortlessly into her arms the moment she pocketed her stele.

Sano kicked and screamed, hurting Daraiya but not enough to prevent her older sister from slinging her over a shoulder. "No! Stop!" Mid-writhe, she remembered the four babies still hungrily squalling upon the bed, and half-resigned herself to her fate to redirect her efforts towards reaching for them. "Wait! The twenty-thirds!"

Mar yanked open the door, revealing a secret passage once used by slaves long before the mansion became an Institute. Not even Mar and Daraiya had known about it until today, when Caine issued their orders. As Daraiya carried Sano past the threshold, horror descended upon her sister's eyes, the realization setting in that neither Mar nor Bradley were so much as acknowledging their abandoned siblings.

"NO!" she shrieked, now clawing at Daraiya's shirt on the off-chance it'd be just the thing to loose herself. "We can't just  _leave_ them there!!! They—"

"Over here!!!"

Sano immediately quieted mid-tantrum, fearfully clapping her hand upon her mouth. Daraiya cursed through her teeth, half-turning to check on Bradley and Mar. Bradley's inhuman arms were already throwing blows in-between catching strikes of a stray Seraph blade upon his thick, pale blue flesh. Finally, a fist found one of the assailants' temples, the force behind it enough to throw the intruder against the opposing wall.

"Bradley!" Mar yelled as he sprinted to his brother's side.

The scuffle's brief reprieve gave Bradley time enough only to gruffly shove Mar back towards the hidden passage. "Get out! I'll hold them off!"

Mar met his eyes for what he knew would be the last time. He offered his brother no protest, only a short nod. "Good luck. I'll see you at _le rendez-vous_." Without a second glance, he turned and fled, forcing himself not to think about what was about to happen. The invading Shadowhunter's disgruntled curses resurfaced as their fight resumed, muffled the moment Mar pulled the door shut behind him.

Daraiya grit her teeth as she watched Mar maneuver around them to take the lead. "Bradley... ?" The question lingered in the air unformed.

"We have to get moving," he curtly replied, intently making his way further and further through the passage.

Daraiya set her sister down beside her. Sano had stopped fighting her, mostly out of shock, and dragging her along on her feet would be far easier than keeping her slung over a shoulder. "Come," she commanded, taking hold of Sano's hand. Her own pain started cracking through her voice, but she forced it back down.

_This isn't over yet. We have to be strong. We have to protect our family._

The sounds of their brother's plight faded as they walked. When they could hear it no longer, they told themselves it was because of the distance they'd crossed. Still, Sano's hand in Daraiya's betrayed her trembling, echoed in her voice. "How could you leave them in the hands of those... those monsters? They're only a year old..."

"They're still human," Mar called back, making no effort to hide his disgust. "They're 'innocent,' and as such the Clave won't harm them." He assessed the fork they'd arrived at, avoiding looking back at his sisters, then eventually picked a direction and continued onward, waving for them to follow. "Their chances are better with the Shadowhunters than with us."

More of Daraiya's true feelings broke her resolve, a snarl wrinkling her lips. "We're  _all_ Shadowhunters."

He scoffed, unamused. " _Encore si naïf, ma soeur_." He hesitated, then ultimately decided Sano should know the truth of things, dropping the second language for her benefit. "You heard Liandra as well as the rest of us. We're 'blights' upon the Shadowhunters' good name. A disgrace to their _reputation_."

Sano made a hurt sound, and Daraiya's anger flared. " _What_ reputation?! Leaving an entire mountainside of Mundanes to demonic whims?  _Ignoring_ countless cries for help? All but delivering an _entire family_ to the slaughterhouse in a gift-wrapped box?"

Her ranting grated on him, and she knew it. He agreed with every word of it, but what could he say? In the end, he said nothing, instead whirling upon them so suddenly they nearly ran into him. His hands shot out to grab Daraiya by her face, fingers lacing into her silver hair. To the backdrop of Sano's faint gasp, he pulled Daraiya forward and pressed his lips to hers, holding the both of them in place long enough for Daraiya to know it was real and not some stray fantasy. By the time he broke the kiss, she was breathless, staring back at him wordlessly.

He filled the silence with such unrelenting conviction it assured both girls the Clave's cruelty towards their family would not go unpunished.

"Let us embrace it, then. We will spit in their faces. We will dance along the Downworld. We will invoke every demonic advantage the Clave loathes so much. We will proudly display everything which makes us who we are, and we will decimate anyone who stands in our way - Shadowhunter or otherwise." The fire in his eyes waned, a softness returning to his face as he strayed from Daraiya's eyes to marvel upon her lips, still moist from their fleeting kiss. "If we're to be condemned for sins that are not ours, then let us seize control of this train and send it to Hell ourselves, hand-in-hand, with not a doubting thought nor passing regret."

At last, a grin breached Daraiya's hardened exterior. Her fingers crept up along Mar's neck to curl within the locks that matched her own. Their decision to finally unleash their chained spirits upon the world spread warmth throughout her body that not even the mountain's unforgiving chill could touch. Their timid sister all but forgotten, she leaned into her brother with a delightful purr.

"They shall witness our legacy firsthand. They shall know, deep down through every inch of their very souls, that no Flame burns brighter than Iron."

* * *

Despite their stunned stupor, Jace couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"As far as Romantic First Dates go, I'd say that ranks at a  _solid_ Top 10."

Clary shot him a look before yet again failing to snatch a striped bass out of the river. Between the two of them, they seemed only capable of sending the fish darting off in terror - which was well enough, she supposed, given they usually soon thereafter found themselves speared through by Daraiya's rapier. Sighing at how soaked they'd all gotten, Clary stood upright and looked at Daraiya, admittedly impressed by the shish kabob she'd made of her unique Seraph blade.

"So, what happened? I mean, clearly you all made it out of there, save for... Sano, was it?"

Daraiya smirked. "Oh, Sano is just fine, don't you fret. She's back home with most of the other survivors." Apparently, she judged their spoils to be sufficient, waving for the both of them to follow her back up the shore towards the abandoned hospital. A tiny smile set into her lips and the slight wrinkle around her eyes as she fondly remembered the rest of that night. "As skilled and numerous as we are, the Clave had sent a small group of elites... a specialized task force excelling more in precision than brute force or particularly exceptional combat skill. They'd gotten the jump on us, and the younger generations weren't quite ready to deal with them. So, while we were evacuating what siblings we could, Caine had Cyd and Psiren help prepare a trap for those foolish Shadowhunters. We let them run amok through our home, allowed them to take what Ironflame children had yet to Ascend, and when they ran back in to deal with Caine... we burned the place to the ground."

Clary barely caught the twitch of Daraiya's lips. She couldn't quite tell if it was out of pain or sadistic glee. She almost didn't want to ask more, but she couldn't help herself. "What do you mean, 'Ascend'?"

She was met with a haughty laugh, and then a sweep of Daraiya's hand to gesture towards her Mantid legs. "That's what Father called it. The operations failed about half the time, resulting in the patient's death. So, those of us who came of age and survived the procedure were said to have Ascended, joining our brothers and sisters in a new generation of..." She hesitated, warily eyeing Clary over her shoulder. "... _enhanced_  Shadowhunters."

Jace bristled. "We're not exactly 'normal' either, you know. Valentine—"

"Yes, yes," Daraiya interrupted, dismissing him with a wave. "We're well aware of that fool's antics. It's what got us in this mess in the first place." She reconsidered what she said, then amended, "Well, according to Father and the Institute's other Shadowhunters, at least. Supposedly, the Clave was so preoccupied with Valentine's little 'uprising' they couldn't be bothered to send any precious resources their way." She turned to look at Jace as they continued walking, all pretense faded from her face. "The demons reduced their ranks to a mere ten Shadowhunters by the time Father conducted his first trials. The Clave wouldn't even acknowledge his research, so consumed were they with Valentine. They left Father fumbling in the dark, so three more brave souls fell to faulty methods before he met our Brood Mother and finally figured it out."

Clary gawked. "He killed his fellow Shadowhunters? All for his research?"

"They  _volunteered_ ," she viciously asserted. "Dying in the trials was better than dying to demons. At least then, it'd be an investment towards something better."

"Or not," Jace pointed out, clearly irked by it all. "What if it never worked out? Your pop's twisted experiments don't sound any better than Valentine's."

It was a step too far. In a breath, Daraiya spun, the tip of her fish-stacked rapier held to Jace's throat. Clary was a hair behind, her own Seraph blade drawn and held to the side of Daraiya's head.

"Valentine created two Angels..." Her eyes flickered between them both. "...and one Demon. Father sired a Warlock, a Seelie, and thirty-two demonically enhanced Shadowhunters." She scoffed at their gaping faces, then lowered her sword and turned to finish their trek inside with a sneer. "Father was  _nothing_ like Valentine."

The weight of the bomb she'd just dropped on them took a good while to process, their legs carrying them back through Renwick's rusted doors more or less in a stupor. Even with multiple bearers, thirty-five children was a lot, and that wasn't even counting all the ones that hadn't 'Ascended,' as she put it. They wondered how many those elites had killed, how many were still out there -  _where_ all those 'Blights' could possibly be hiding. The way she'd spoken about things, it sounded like at least some of them had fled Colorado.

And yet, despite their sheer numbers, a single one of the entire Ironflame family continued buzzing around Jace's skull, for reasons he couldn't comprehend - or didn't try to, for fear of what he'd find.

"Vanessa... She's the Seelie, right?"

A mild snicker preceded Daraiya's answer, her head shaking in the dust-filtered light.

"No, that'd be Clive. Care to meet him?"


	13. Creepshow

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pvvp6fQ1i_o&index=13&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

Magnus found him in his office. One hand slowly turned a phone over and over, echoing the thoughts he knew were tumbling through Alec's mind. The Shadowhunter had his back to the door, head propped upon a fist, making it difficult for Magnus to discern his expression. Still, he knew Alec well enough by now to have a fairly good read on his turbulent mood, and so announced his presence with a soft and hesitant knock against the office's wooden threshold.

It instantly summoned a smile to Alec's face as he twisted in his chair, eyes taking on a subtle gleam in the room's filtered light. "Hey!" he greeted, abandoning the phone on his desk and sweeping to Magnus' side. One arm hooked around Magnus' waist, pulling him the rest of the way inside the office so his other could shut the door free of obstruction. Before the knob had clicked into place, Magnus felt a warm and giddy pressure against his lips, one so infectious he couldn't help put laugh in reply.

"Well, hello to you too, Mr. Lightwood." His hands lifted to cup Alec's grinning face, searching it with mild worry. "Are you... ?"

Alec quickly shook his head, still grinning. "No. Not at all!" He stepped away from Magnus to the center of the office, then turned around in place with arms spread wide, as though marveling it for the first time. If Magnus hadn't known any better, he might have thought Alec mad. "It's gone, completely gone!"

The Warlock warily eyed their surroundings, his footsteps careful as he approached Alec. Without truly looking at anything in particular, he reached out into the air around them, feeling the space like a child blindly fumbling for a toy lost beneath the couch. To be honest, he felt a touch crazed himself as he receded back to the here-and-now empty-handed. To be sure, something had faded from the world, leaving behind barely perceptible tracks that slipped away as fast as a snowflake melting upon a warm tongue. "Yes," he replied, feeling Alec's relief spreading through himself. "It is. The air still..." He struggled to find the right words. "...tastes different? But it feels harmless. There's no unseen presence, malevolent or otherwise. Well, beyond the usual wards."

His lover smirked, then moved to sink into one of the office's plush chairs. "Good. I was getting sick of..." He hesitated, belatedly realizing the odd turn of words he'd cornered himself in. "...getting sick."

With a light and doting chuckle, Magnus sat back against the desk, arms folding low before him. "Did anything change?" he asked, insatiably curious - or perhaps paranoid. "It's rare something like that would just... disappear."

The look Alec passed him was peculiar, oddly quiet. "You believe me, then? That something was there?"

Magnus struggled for a delicate way to put it. "I believe something was bothering you, yes. Whether or not it was some kind of unwelcome presence, even I can't say for sure. But,  _if_ there was, it's unlikely it vacated unprovoked."

"Fair enough," Alec replied. He paused, reviewing everything that'd happened between now and their evening romp. In spite of himself, the memory tugged at the corners of his lips and colored his cheeks, fingers taking to idly fidgeting with the seam of his sleeve. "I don't think anything happened - not that anyone told me, anyway. I just got here a little while ago with—"

Alec's eyes shot wide and looked up at Magnus so suddenly it startled him. "Magnus! I'm sorry, I should have mentioned it sooner," he said as he stood and came up to Magnus's side.

"Mentioned what?" Magnus questioned with a worried furrow. They'd both gotten better about the dissemination of important information over the past year, so it was more Alec's manner than what he'd said that worried him. "Is everything alright?"

After a moment's hesitation, his hands unable to decide whether or not to hold Magnus's arms, he finally admitted, "It's Cyd. He's here. In the Institute."

A restrained tension pulled through Magnus's face, memories of being licked, held at sword-point, and kicked in the head drifting unwittingly behind his eyes. " _Why_?" he pressed, already running through a number of his own theories on the matter.

Alec realized his error and corrected himself. "He's in a cell downstairs." That seemed to ease Magnus somewhat, but still didn't quite answer the lingering question. "He, uh... He had me lock him up."

"He 'had' you do that?" A brow peaked upon the Warlock's face, his arms subconsciously tightening about himself.

"Sorry. It's... It's kind of complicated. The short of it is..." Alec hesitated, warily looking back at the phone he'd dropped upon his desk. "...I know he attacked us. Attacked  _you_. And that's absolutely unforgivable. But I don't think he wanted to hurt us. I think he's trying to protect his family, as misguided as he is about it."

Magnus scoffed. "Yes, you could say that." He shifted a bit to join Alec's observation of the phone. "Anyway, you think his arrival might have banished whatever was haunting you?"

"Not exactly." Alec found Magnus's eyes again, his manner settling back down now that they'd gotten through the topic of Magnus's latest assailant. "Jace and Clary ran into him behind the Jade Wolf. There was someone else with them, too - a girl, maybe a few years younger than Izzy. Before I brought him here, Cyd told her to come here and get someone. They were long gone by the time we arrived, supposedly rendezvousing with Jace, Clary, and the twins over at Renwick's."

"Renwick's?" Whatever lingering concern he felt was rapidly eaten up by confusion as he tried to keep up. "The hospital ruins?"

"Yeah. I guess they're using it as a safehouse or something."

"Assuming Cyd isn't baiting you all into a trap," Magnus pointed out. Then, with a smile, "Though, I imagine you already accounted for that."

The vote of confidence brought a grin to Alec's lips. "I sent Izzy to find them. She's supposed to check in with me when she gets there and let me know if something's up." At that, he pulled out his own phone, checking for missed texts. Finding none, he dropped it back into his pocket and finished, "She should get there soon. But, whoever that girl was meant to extract..."

Magnus blinked, shaking his head and getting back on track. "Right. They might have been the source." He frowned a moment later. "But, if that person was the cause of all that, and they're aligned with Cyd... ?" He met Alec's eyes, waiting for the young man to fill in the remaining gaps.

"Like I said," Alec offered with a sigh, "I think Cyd's trying to protect his family. That person was making me feel ill around Liandra - what if they were trying to predispose me to distrusting her?"

"I'm still not quite following. To what end? What does Liandra have to do with Cyd's family?"

"The twins," Alec replied, and watched as clarity at last dawned across Magnus's features. "He's their older brother, apparently - Mar and Daraiya's, too."

Magnus parted his lips to say something, but ultimately decided against it, leaving his bewilderment be for now and waving for Alec to go on.

"I don't know all the details yet," Alec continued, "but Liandra clearly has her own plans for them, and Cyd is rather obviously opposed to them."

"I see," Magnus murmured, at last dropping the fold of his arms. He reached out, gently stroking Alec's arm with his thumb. "Still, that doesn't make what they did to you okay."

Alec took his hand into his own and fixed Magnus with a firm look. "What they did to  _us_ ," he corrected. "And I know. I interrogated Liandra when I got back, like I imagine Cyd wanted me to. Honestly? It didn't help my opinion of either of them." Releasing Magnus, he retreated around his desk and collapsed into his chair, a weary hand extending to retrieve his tablet. "There's still so much we don't know about the situation, more than I'd anticipated, and I don't even know where the Clave stands on all this."

That remark brought more concern streaking across Magnus's face. "Wait, didn't they order the transfer?"

Alec shrugged. "That's about the only thing we actually  _do_ know: they OK'd the twins' transfer. But Cyd, the forced bond, the dead Shadowhunters—"

Magnus interrupted him with a hand. "Shadowhunter, right?" he asserted, but at Alec's strained look his eyes widened. "There's been another one?"

"This morning. He attacked Cyd. What's more, it sounds like both him and the one from last night - the one the Yakuza gunned down? They're both connected to Liandra. Check out her texts," Alec offered, leaning over to push Liandra's phone across his desk. Watching as Magnus scrolled through the messages, he saw the next question blooming in Magnus's eyes and answered before the Warlock could ask, "Yeah. She explicitly ordered an attack even if it put Jace and Clary at risk."

Magnus grew quiet, lowering the phone and looking back up at Alec. "...I don't like this, Alexander," he finally murmured. Then, with pursed lips, "Downworlders tend to get caught in the crossfire when Shadowhunters turn on each other."

Alec's expression fell, knowing that for all he understood of the struggle Magnus referred to it still barely scratched the surface. "That's why I think we have to be very careful about this. We can't blindly follow along with anything  _any_ of these people ask of us." He gestured as he spoke, indicating his inclusion of the Clave in the definition of "people."

With a slow nod, Magnus settled back into one of the chairs beside Alec's desk, returning Liandra's phone as he did. "So, then... What do you want to do?" he asked, voice soft and gentle. Right now, in this moment, Magnus understood Alec needed him more as a supportive boyfriend than as a political advisor.

"I don't know," Alec muttered, glancing at the tablet in his hands. He'd pulled up the security feed, Cyd looking oddly serene as he sat upon his cot, tendrilled head tilted back against his cell's wall. "I think..." He wrestled with himself a bit more, then finally put down the tablet and continued, rubbing his temple. "...I think I need to get Cyd's side of everything, at least. There's a lot of history between him and Liandra, apparently, and it sounds like it involves a lot of bad blood."

Magnus nodded, his voice still quiet. "It could very well be coloring Liandra's account of things, and the decisions the both of them are making."

Alec smiled up at him. "Thank you, Magnus. I know working with Cyd, Mar, and Daraiya is probably the last thing you want to do right now..."

"Madzie was going to regale me with her rendition of MiMi-Chan's latest album," Magnus interjected. "The  _entire_ album."

Alec couldn't help but snort at the thought before continuing. "I won't let them harm you. They'll all be held accountable for their actions." He stood up and walked around to catch Magnus's lips in another, brief kiss. "Thank you for stopping by. I'll let you know when I'm done questioning—"

He broke off and yanked his phone from his pocket, feeling it buzz. Magnus didn't need to ask, knowing purely from the frenzy of Alec's eyes that it was Izzy. Instead, he asked as he stood up, "Did she find them? Are they alright?"

Steadily, Alec settled back down a bit, then looked up at him, pocketing his phone. "I don't suppose I could trouble the High Warlock of Brooklyn for a portal to Renwick's?"

Magnus snickered, his hands already moving through the air. "For the Head of the New York Institute?"

Golden yellow light burst between them, spiraling into a large, turbulent vortex.

"Anything."

* * *

Izzy kept her breath steady, her hands tight at opposite ends of her serpentine staff. The electrum thrummed in her hands, echoing the buzz of her alert nerves. Dark eyes scoured the abandoned asylum's halls, the already poor light obscured by a waning sun - only a few hours remained until nightfall, and she had no intention of sticking around long enough to see how this place wore the moonlight. Luckily, the voices she followed grew closer with every careful footstep, and by the sounds of things none of them had yet been alerted to her approach.

" _Bonsoir, mademoiselle_!"

In a heartbeat, Izzy spun a full 180, her staff twisting in her hands in anticipation of a rapier's thrust. It met with no resistance, and for a moment she convinced herself she'd simply missed the timing before she blinked her startled eyes and saw she hadn't missed the rapier...

...it was just speared through five grey, reeking, sopping wet fish.

Before her confusion-riddled face could offer any bewildered demand for answers, bouncing blonde and fire-orange emerged from the shroud, followed by a familiar call. "Izzy! Izzy, wait - it's alright!"

Though she lowered her staff and rose out of her fighting stance, Izzy eyed the snickering Daraiya with distrust, even as Clary came to a stop beside the Mantid-legged woman. "Clary, Jace..." Her dark eyes flickered over them, her alarm further put off at seeing them so relaxed with one another after a year of silence. Had they finally resolved things? "What's going on?"

"Lunch," Daraiya mused, gesturing with her rapier. "What does it look like, _ma cherie_?"

Jace cut in between them before Izzy smacked her staff clear across Daraiya's face. "It's okay, Izzy. We're good." A hand clapped upon her shoulder did its best to impart comfort - when he saw that wasn't quite enough, he looked over his shoulder and regarded Daraiya. "She filled us in on what's going on."

"Well, mostly," Clary corrected with a pointed look at Daraiya. "She told us where they all came from, and why Shadowhunters keep attacking them. We still don't know what the deal is with Jimmy and Naia."

"Or why they're obsessed with Magnus," Jace added in. At the girls' piqued looks, he added, "He's great, I'll admit that much. But, the way those two spoke about him, you'd think they wrote a dissertation on the guy, and they're only - what, six?"

"Seven," Daraiya mused, side-stepping around a still-confused Izzy. "They were the fifteenth generation."

Izzy's eyes went wide. " _Excuse_ me? Fifteenth?"

Clary quickly took her by the arm and led her after Daraiya. "We'll fill you in on the details later. For now, just know that all of the demonically-altered Shadowhunters we've run into are related. They're called Blights, and they're fighting for survival against some kind of secret special ops team of Shadowhunters."

Izzy frowned, at last finding something she could latch on to. "Let me guess - led by Liandra?"

"Yeah," Jace confirmed, bringing up the rear. "I  _knew_ there was something up with her! Turns out she was one of the regular Shadowhunters that lived with them, and now she's trying to wipe them off the face of the planet."

Izzy stopped short just outside the next room's double-doors, her staff collapsing back into an elegant bangle about her wrist as she caught Jace by the shoulder. "Are you sure that's such a bad thing?" she hissed under her breath. "Don't you remember what they did to Alec and Magnus?"

He winced under a swift pang of guilt. "Of course I do," he insisted, his features wrinkled around the edges. "I just..." He shifted uneasily before at last looking up past Clary and Izzy through the double doors. "I don't know. I feel like we can trust them."

"You're meant to."

The soft voice startled all three of them, their eyes snapping to the place they'd thought Daraiya would be standing. Instead, Vanessa peeked timidly through the doors, her delicate, violet eyes slipping up-and-down Izzy as though she thought the Lightwood sister might snap her neck.

Frankly, she was right to worry. Izzy scowled at her, half a mind to bring her staff back out. "What's  _that_ supposed to mean?" Her mind flickered back to the night at The BaSin, to the way Cyd had reached out to Jace specifically. "You all did something to Jace, didn't you?"

Vanessa shied away from Izzy's approach, nearly stumbling over herself and her long skirt. "I... I... !"

Jace had been on the verge of denying it, but as he and Clary followed them through the doors back into the larger room he felt something click in his mind. With the dusty light falling across Vanessa, casting a mild haze across her elegantly rounded features, he felt that needling familiarity again, and realized that if he squinted, under the right lighting and at the right angle, her hair could seem brighter, and her eyes darker, and maybe even the colors could shift just enough, such that by the end of it all maybe she could remind him of—

" _Hey_. Are you hungry or not?"

Jace blinked. Malina was standing beside a still-flustered Vanessa, half a seared fish held out to him in a dirty hand. "Uh," he uttered, looking up and searching the room. Clary and Izzy had walked off, squabbling with an amused Daraiya - by the looks of things, the silver-haired vixen was probably intentionally griefing the both of them, dodging their questions with sly insults and crude remarks. When he looked back at Vanessa, he realized the young woman was blushing. The sight of the fish made Jace's stomach turn more than anything Izzy had ever "cooked," but he didn't want to be rude. For... some reason. "Sure," he mumbled, taking the fish with a small nod. "Thanks."

Malina rolled her eye and stalked off. "Whatever. Come on, Clive's over here."

Jace frowned, glancing between her and Vanessa. Oddly, Vanessa wasn't blushing anymore, her eyes lowered and demeanor downtrodden. "...Clive?"

"The Seelie, dumbass." Malina bit into her half of the fish, mostly to alleviate the urge to rip Jace's arms off. "Daraiya said you asked about him."

"Oh, right." Jace quickly regained himself, stepping around Vanessa to follow Malina. He slipped back into his cool-and-cocky mask with an indignant scowl - if he couldn't shake the clenching of his throat, at least he could cover it up and bury it. "You know, people would probably hate you less if you weren't so bitchy."

"Is that so?" The fake sugar coating Malina's voice was so thick he was honestly surprised she didn't choke on it. "Oh, what ever should I do? Smile more?"

"For starters."

He could tell she was on the verge of another quip, but a loud, wailing scream interrupted them, drawing Malina's ire and Jace's incredulous bafflement. "What the hell?!"

"Clive," Malina groaned as they jogged the rest of the distance to where Izzy, Clary, and Daraiya had gathered by the couch.

Mar was seated on the ground, a boy just a couple years Malina's junior seated in his lap. Or, at least, he  _looked_ only slightly younger. The way he squirmed in Mar's arms and rubbed at his eyes with half-balled hands made him seem entirely infantile. His feet awkwardly kicked at the air and ground around him, but ultimately failed to gain purchase, as if he truly couldn't comprehend how to move his own body.

Daraiya knelt beside them, Mar doing his best to hold the boy steady. "There there, _mon lapin_ ," she cooed, combing her fingers through his crop of snow-white hair. Where her's and Mar's fell like liquid ash about their bronze faces, his was like a pure and untainted cloud drifting across a bright sun. Daraiya's other hand plucked a piece of fish from Clary's, then fed it to her squalling brother. "Someone's quite hungry, _non_?"

Izzy tightened her arms about herself as she watched, Jace coming to a pause alongside her. "This is so weird," she murmured, and Jace knew she referred to not just the boy but the whole group in general. Her eyes seemed unsure what to focus on more: the boy in Mar's lap, or the fact that Mar's legs were entirely human.

"Don't worry," Mar chuckled, relaxing a bit as the boy settled in his arms, happily nibbling bits of fish from Daraiya's fingertips. "Clive here is about as weird as our little family gets."

Clary lowered to the ground, her legs folding into a criss-cross beneath her, so she could more easily keep the fish in Daraiya's reach. "What's... um... "

"...Wrong with him?" a meek voice finished for her. As usual, Vanessa's quiet approach had startled them, though by now they were starting to get used to it, easing back down as soon as they saw her. Though her lips smiled as she sat beside them, Jace noticed a slight sadness to it, though he couldn't fathom why. "It's... difficult to explain, exactly..."

"Imagine a deck of cards," Malina called from her slump on the couch, much to everyone's surprise. "Say all the cards are laid out before you, starting from the Two of Clubs and ascending all the way to the Ace of Spades. Each card represents one day in Clive's life."

"Pretty short life. Ow!" Jace scowled and rubbed his arm where Izzy had pinched him.

"Please, continue," Izzy offered, trying her best to accept everything for the time being and be polite.

Malina snarled at Jace, but nonetheless carried on. "So, ordered like that, Clive was born on the Two of Clubs, and ages by a day per each card." Her hands lifted in the air before her, helping her visualize the analogy. Suddenly, they wove about between each other, and she continued, "But then, around the Four of Clubs, someone comes along and scrambles up all the cards. Now the next card is the Jack of Diamonds, and then the Seven of Spades, and then the Ten of Clubs, and then the Two of Hearts."

She lowered her hands and sat up on the couch. Miraculously, her long hair had remained carefully lain over her left eye the entire time, keeping it well hidden from everyone's view. "The rest of us still experience Clive as a series of cards - his body ages day by day, card by card. But the values of the cards - those are Clive's... brain, let's say. His mental development, his self-awareness, his memories. And now, they're all scrambled up." She nodded towards him, referring to his current state. "To us, he's fifteen. He _should_ be the Nine of Diamonds, let's say. But he's only the Six of Clubs in there," she finished, tapping a finger to her head. "And tomorrow, he might be the Queen of Spades, or the Eight of Hearts. If we're lucky, he'll be the Ten of Diamonds, but days like that are really rare."

"He calls those days his 'resonant' days," Daraiya chuckled fondly. Then, with a worried sigh, "They're easier for us, but he hates them. Those are the only days where he doesn't know if he has a 'tomorrow,' you see."

"Jeez," Jace murmured, kneeling and squinting at Clive. Now that he wasn't crying, Jace could see the boy sported eyes as clear as glass, and pointed ears pierced through the soft lay of his hair. The only thing he lacked of the Seelies were the floral patterns that danced across their skin - he'd never actually been to their realm, he presumed. Given his family and their apparent upbringing, maybe hadn't even ever _met_ another Seelie. He thought back to Daraiya's words earlier, his curiosity sparking. "That's what you meant? When you said I'm 'meant' to trust you guys?"

Daraiya eyed him carefully. Jace swore he caught a slight flicker towards Vanessa, but Daraiya answered before any thoughts on the matter could cement. "Yes. Years ago, before any of us knew the Shadowhunters would betray us, he told us to seek you out."

Malina stirred on the couch - when they looked her way, they found her laying down again, back to them, her arm lopped over her head as if to shield it. "'Trust him, for he will trust you,'" she quoted, voice muffled by the cotton spilling out of the ripped pillows. Some tinge or other strained her voice, but neither Jace, Izzy, nor Clary could place it, and none of the other Blights appeared keen on filling them in.

"Well, you'll have to forgive me," Jace retorted. "I don't intend on trusting you all just because some time-lapsing kid - who happens to be _your_  brother - says I should trust you."

" _Will_  trust you," Mar corrected. "Sorry, I know it's confusing." His "apology" sounded less than sincere.

"Can we just stop talking about it?" Malina snapped. "How about, instead, the Golden Son tells us what the _fuck_  he did with Cyd?!"

Jace laid a steadying hand on Izzy's arm - he'd come to resign himself to Malina's irritable mood swings. "Like I said before, that Starsong guy attacked him." He said it more to catch the other Blights up to speed, their eyes all at once snapping to him - aside from Clive's, of course, his priorities still firmly set upon the fish in Clary's hand. "Alec showed up with Gemini in time to help fight him off, but Gemini rushed in before any of us could stop them. Jimmy took a blow to the head, and they passed out." He turned and nodded at Clary. "Cyd told us to bring them here, but Liandra's got some kind of agenda with them, so he felt it pertinent we give her something else to fuss over to buy us more time and keep Clary and I in the clear."

Clary cut in before Daraiya could hiss at them. "It's in your best interest if we stay on Liandra's good side. We won't be able to get anything out of her if she knows we're helping you guys."

" _Are_  you?" Mar asked with a raised brow. Then, with a wave of his hand, "Anyhow, we already know what she wants with them. It's not _too_  dissimilar from what she wants - what the Clave wants - with all of us."

"And what's that?" Izzy pried. She'd pulled out her phone and was halfway through a series of short texts. By now, she had a pretty good read on the situation, and had to let Alec know everything was OK - still an unconscious Gemini, though.

"Assimilate," Malina muttered from the couch. "Either we take their bullshit 'medicine' and pretend we're just regular-ass Shadowhunters..."

"...or they'll execute us," Vanessa finished gently. She tried at a smile. "I don't really have a choice in the matter," she explained to their horrified expressions. "I'm... not really a Shadowhunter, and..." She wrestled with herself, anxiously looking at Jace. "...Well, I'm too much of a risk, I guess. They can't trust me."

"That's ridiculous," Jace insisted, unsure why the notion bothered him so much. "Full offense to your brothers and sisters - you're probably the _only_  one I feel I can—"

The howling of whipping air cut him off, a portal suddenly ripping open in the middle of the room. A familiarly-ringed hand emerged, glinting in the fading daylight, followed by the elegant embroidery of a silken shirt...

...and the abrupt fly of a tight fist across a chiseled, tan jaw.

Alec's panicked voice yelled for Magnus as he followed through the portal, the thing snapping shut on his heels. Even before his feet hit the ground, however, a blur of brown and silver streaked past him. It impacted Malina just as the smaller girl was winding back to clock Magnus a second time, eliciting a pained grunt first from the knee to her gut and then her fall face-first upon the cement floor. To Magnus's startled surprise, Daraiya was now standing beside them, back to him, a pointed Mantid leg pierced through the fabric of Malina's black hoodie and keeping her pinned to the ground.

"Get  _off_  me, bitch!" Malina snarled, struggling on the ground. "Some fucking Warlock just—"

" _Non, non_ ," Daraiya sighed, a lazy hand combing through her hair. " _Monsieur_  Bane is..." She turned a purring grin over her shoulder. "Is it still too soon to call you a friend,  _mon fléau_?"

Magnus eyes ranged over the two young women, wide and wild with fury. Alec's presence at his side, seraph blade drawn from his thigh holster, was the only thing keeping him calm and collected, knowing it'd be foolish of Daraiya to try attacking him _now_. With that knowledge in mind, he stayed his hand, though magic sparked dangerously at his fingertips. "Yes," he scowled, tentatively checking his lip for blood, "it is."


	14. War of Change

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdnTSXUWd3E&index=14&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

"Bitch, if you don't get off me in  _five god damn seconds_ —"

" _Une soeur gênante_!"

"And cut it with the fucking French already!!!"

Magnus watched the pair with a quirked brow, Alec still fussing over the side of his face. "Maybe, if we all just leave, they'll kill each other and we can be done with this whole thing?"

"Careful," Alec muttered, finally satisfied with the lack of blood or bruising. "I might just agree with you."

He narrowly avoided Izzy, Jace, and Clary overhearing him, the trio jogging up beside him and Magnus. "What are you  _doing_ here?" Izzy scolded. "I told you everything was fine!"

Magnus took Alec's hand and kissed his knuckles, thanking him for the brief inspection before addressing Izzy. "Yes, but you  _also_ said something about unconscious children, I believe?" He shifted his questioning look between her and Alec. "Apparent fans of mine, no less!"

"Yeah," Alec replied, already spotting the pair of makeshift beds off to the side. Hand-in-hand with Magnus, he led the way while he continued, "With a hit like the one Jimmy took, he could be concussed. I wanted Magnus to take a look."

Clary passed an apologetic look to Vanessa - she was the only one to notice the quiet girl's approach. "He's right," she replied, laying a hand on Vanessa's shoulder, but failing to lift her downtrodden stare. "I can't tell what the Clave's antidote 'normalized,' but if Jimmy suffered any brain damage..." Her voice faded, her eyes widening with realization when Vanessa failed to react to her words. "...unless... ?"

Magnus looked up from where he knelt by the young boy's side, warily glancing between Clary and Alec. "...The Clave's 'antidote'?"

Alec quickly lifted his hands in defense. "They never told  _me_ about any such thing!" He noticed Vanessa's uncomfortable shifting, pushing aside an odd sense of familiarity to focus on the issue at hand. "Care to enlighten us?"

Jace nodded towards the far wall, directing Alec and Magnus to where Mar still sat with Clive wriggling in his lap - his  _human_ lap, they noted with a start. "Apparently, the Clave developed it to convert the Blights' demonic flesh into human flesh."

"I'm  _not_ calling them that," Alec scowled.

He jumped when he felt an elbow plant upon his shoulder, whirling and stumbling back from a mildly-amused Daraiya. "Why not? Everyone's doing it."

Through the scuffle, only Vanessa saw Magnus's quiet tension. She knelt on the opposite side of Jimmy and smiled, though she still refused to meet his gaze. "Don't worry," she replied, idly drawing aside Jimmy's hair to inspect the right side of his forehead. "It doesn't work on Downworlders, since your whole body is an even mixture of demonic and human material."

"I didn't think it would," he lied, hand subconsciously fiddling with his ear cuff. Quickly moving on before Alec or the others could catch on, he eyed the subtle bruising Vanessa had revealed on the side of Jimmy's head. Magic curled from his fingertips, moving towards the injury. "I don't suppose you'd like to share Clary's revelation with the class?"

Vanessa winced at his direct manner, for which Magnus couldn't help but feel a belated albeit mild guilt. The quiet girl glanced over her shoulder at Daraiya, and then more distantly Malina, her whole manner deferring to her sisters' discretion.

Daraiya shrugged, then strolled around the small group to where Naia slept soundly upon her heap. "I, for one, was hoping we might skim past that particular detail."

Jace couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Your dad sired  _thirty_ children—"

"Thirty- _four_ ," Malina bitterly corrected from her couch.

"—your brother's brain is a literal scramble, and you in particular have a very  _intimate_ relationship with your _other_ brother." As if anyone needed any clarification as to who he was talking about, Jace nodded his head towards Mar. "What could you possibly  _still_ be skittish about telling us?"

Alec's political know-how got him halfway there, drawing connections between the current conversation and Liandra's retelling of the Pine Brook Institute. "Because it's the reason the Clave attacked," he replied, dark eyes turning to Vanessa. Of all the Blights, she was the worst at hiding her thoughts. The way she squirmed under his gaze betrayed just how close he was to the truth. Although she wasn't a Seelie, he wondered just how similar she was to the Fair Folk. "They turned a blind eye to Maven Ironflame for more than fifteen years, but when they caught wind of Gemini..."

An acidic mutter from the couch surprised them all, the Blights included. "Christ, just fucking _tell_ them." Malina rolled over just enough to glare at Clary accusingly, though her eye remained obscured behind her hair. "The bitch already figured it out anyway."

Izzy made to snap at her, but Clary stopped her, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "It's fine, Izzy. Let her be a miserable grump if she likes." To Vanessa, her brow softened with worry, or perhaps outright fear. "I'm right, then? Their... 'Ascension,' as you all put it... ?"

Vanessa hesitated, violet eyes shifting warily to Daraiya. It was only after she received an impassive shrug from her older sister that she at last bowed her head and answered in a solemn sigh. "Yes, it's... it's their brains..."

All of them, to some degree, managed to convince themselves they'd misheard, or misunderstood. With a firm frown, Jace was the one to speak their doubt - their _hope_. "What, like... You mean like their nerve endings, right? The connections _to_  their brains."

She quickly shook her head, shoulders beginning to tremble. "N-No, Jace."

The sound of his name upon her tongue sent another wave of familiarity over him, making his stomach churn. He remained too out of touch with his emotions to identify why he reacted this way, but between the leak of his feelings through their parabatai bond and a one-by-one accounting of all the Blights, Alec at last realized what was going on with Vanessa, his eyes darkening with explicit aggression.

She could feel his contempt closing in upon her. To keep him distracted from it, and avoid giving him any more reason to act upon his distaste, she hurried along with her explanation of Gemini. "I mean their actual brains. Specifically, only half of each's brain is their own - the other halves were replaced at birth with the opposing sides of a single Cecaelia brain. That brain's demonic energies keep them connected at all times. That's why they're so well coordinated, and why Jimmy's injury affected Naia."

Subconsciously, they all flinched away from the resting twins, eyes wide with varying degrees of horror - save for Magnus, who had simply grown very, very quiet. Clary thought back to her brother, of the way his demonic darkness had consumed him. Jace grit his teeth, struggling to summon any ounce of loathing for the twins but failing to, and hating himself for it. Alec mused over Liandra, and the reason Maven insisted on presenting before the Clave, and why they feared Caine would betray his father. Izzy's concerns were far more immediate, jumping to her feet and drawing a Seraph blade from her hip - in her, Alec saw why Caine might  _want_ to betray his father.

Daraiya was on her feet - well, her points - as well, rapier drawn and held to Izzy's chest. "Stand down," she warned in a snarl, Jace and Clary standing and drawing their weapons. Her green eyes noted Alec and Magnus still on the ground beside the twins, both of them tense beneath the weight of the decisions they bore. "I may not have my dancing partner, but you have far more to loose than I do, and I will not be the last Blight you face should you slay me." She grinned, as though the prospect of dying in heated battle excited her. "Perhaps that is a risk you're willing to take?"

Izzy's hand tightened about her hilt. "Demon arms, legs, faces... that's one thing. Demon  _brains_? Meaning they think like demons, they  _feel_ like demons, they—"

"—all but  _are_ demons, right?" Daraiya finished with a scowl.

Izzy frowned. She hadn't wanted to say it, more sensitive than the other Shadowhunters to the connections one might draw between the Blights and the Downworlders, and the Downworlders' varied sensitivities to the demonic influence coursing through their veins. Still, nor did she intend on backing down when called out, firmly standing her ground on the matter.

"Yes," she replied, relaxing her sword-arm somewhat. A fight would serve all of them ill. "Look, Daraiya, I know they're your siblings, but that's a _huge_  liability! How could you possibly monitor something like that, and make sure the Cecaelia's brain isn't taking over?" Another thought occurred to her, and she pressed with more urgency, "I'm certain Maven didn't use a young Cecaelia, did he? So your seven-year-old siblings are being pitted against a fully-developed Cecaelia, with only  _half_ their individual brainpower?!"

Daraiya frowned, lips pursed. Clearly, Izzy's observations weren't too far off from how she felt about it all herself, and she had the answer to Izzy's question - or, _an_ answer, at least. The tension throughout her form betrayed just how much she disliked it, keeping her lips bitterly sealed.

So, instead, Malina offered it up to the group, finally rolling off the couch and lifting to a stand in a single and expertly fluid motion. "The parabatai rune," she growled, her one eye trained upon the twins with something akin to contempt.

Jace's eyes widened with realization. "An Angelic bond that would parallel and neutralize the Cecaelia's demonic bond."

Mar shrugged from where he still sat against the wall. "In theory, anyway. It clearly didn't have a terribly 'Angelic' effect of any of our family's  _other_ parabatai."

Jace's head tilted to start questioning the notion Mar just dropped, but Alec cut in first - one issue at a time. "That's why Liandra wanted to force it on them. That way, they wouldn't need to take the Clave's antidote. They could retain the advantages from their demonic transplants without either revealing their lineage to other Shadowhunters or risking the Cecaelia taking over."

As he spoke, a look of horror consumed Jace's expression, picking up on subtle cues across their own bond. "...Alec, you're kidding? You can't seriously be considering letting her go through with it?"

Alec's lips parted to reply, but Daraiya offered a shrug before he could dig a hole for himself. "Remember, Herondale - you're in strange waters. We were  _all_ forced to." From his place of quiet introspection, Magnus noticed Malina shoot her a warning look, and how it inspired the older sister to correct herself. "...Well, those of us who were able to, anyway."

Clary shook her head. "What's... well,  _any_ of that supposed to mean? Maven... He was able to, what,  _create_ parabatai?" She turned her confused look to Jace. "Is that even possible?"

Jace was keeping his gaze uncomfortably trained upon Daraiya. "Theoretically, I suppose. It's a matter of closeness of the souls - and if everyone's living under the same roof, it'd be fairly easy to manufacture an environment such that two children grow up developing that closeness."

"What's more, they'd have a bit of a jump-start," Alec pointed out. To his fellow Shadowhunters' confused looks, he explained, "This would only happen to survivors of the operations. The two in question would share a common, highly traumatic experience. Living through that sort of thing,  _together_..." He looked back at Daraiya, and noticed a certain distance had dulled her green eyes. "...It's bound to unite them, one way or another."

An uneasy silence endured after that, each of them processing this haunting possibility. Gemini were bound to wake up soon, and then what? None of them could really say for sure just how long the antidote lasted, but it certainly wasn't permanent. Eventually, their brains would revert, and they would all be faced with what seemed to be an impossible choice: allow a demon's mind to persist within two young Shadowhunters, keep the twins on a constant prescription of the Clave's mysterious antidote, or force them to become parabatai. At the very least, Daraiya was convinced the Shadowhunters wouldn't kill them outright. Not yet, anyway.

"We should let them wake up first," Jace finally murmured, his voice dragged down with an overbearing sense of defeat. His golden eyes shifted towards them, unbeknownst to him bringing admiration blossoming across Vanessa's face. "Let them decide for themselves if they want to become parabatai." With a bit of hope, he added, "They seemed really interested in the whole thing, at least. For all we know, they could  _want_ to."

The remark caused Daraiya to sneer. "It's a stupid thing to want." At Alec's glare, she delivered a pointed look his way. "A parabatai is a liability, just another way for the Clave to hunt you... to  _hurt_ you."

It bristled Alec's nerves, his mind jumping to the attack at the cafe, and he calmed only when he felt ringed fingers slide along the back of his hand and give it a squeeze. He turned and met Magnus's gentle smile, then stood up alongside his boyfriend.

"Be that as it may," Magnus finally spoke, "it's ultimately up to them. In the meantime..." He grew hesitant, then looked up at Alec more meaningfully. To Alec's surprise, something urgent seemed to be stewing in his eyes, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. "I don't much like the idea of them staying here in this dump."

The unspoken suggestion dawned on Alec, and he frantically searched Magnus's face for some further explanation. "What?" He glanced at Daraiya, then held Magnus's arm and drew him aside. "Magnus, are you crazy?" he asked in a hushed voice. "After what they did? You can't honestly want to bring them into our home... Into  _Madzie's_ home?"

Magnus frowned and quickly shook his head. "Not all of them. Just the twins." He shot a narrowed glare Daraiya's way, then looked back up at Alec. He struggled for a moment, carefully considering his words before finally trying, "I can explain further when we get home, but... I think I may know the Blights' mother."

"They aren't going with you."

Malina's sudden interjection surprised them all, mostly because none of them had honestly expected her to care. Soon, Magnus realized it had less to do with the twins and more to do with _him_ , her single eye trained ferociously upon him.

Clary scoffed, gesturing emptily to the ruins around them. "What, you expect us to just leave them here with _you_?" Malina parted her lips to snap back, but Clary didn't give her a chance. "No. Shut up and listen to _us_  for a change! Alec's the Head of our Institute, and the Clave put Jimmy and Naia directly into his care. If we go back without them, he's _screwed_  - and that's not even considering how Liandra and whoever else she has working with her might react!"

To Magnus's surprise and great relief, Alec spoke up next in support of the decision. Rarely anyone ever seemed to remember even the High Warlock of Brooklyn needed a steadfast ally every now and again, and though Alec had already proven time and time again he was different from everyone else in this regard it still brought a certain warmth to the Warlock's heart every time he became that ally. "What's more, Magnus is far better equipped to monitor them than any of the rest of us. If their condition deteriorates, or the medication wears off and the Cecaelia takes over, he's more than capable of handling it." He paused, then turned a small nod towards the Warlock. "...Madzie, too. She's far more powerful than I often give her credit for."

Under Magnus's ever-watchful supervision, of course. But, that wasn't something that needed to be said at this particular juncture.

Malina was snarling, turning to her sister for backup. "Daraiya, this is stupid. You're not gonna just let them—"

"They're right,  _petite soeur_." The remark caught Magnus and the Shadowhunters off-guard, but they didn't contest it. Daraiya shrugged, then turned to stalk towards their brothers. "We have to report back to Mother about Cyd. Even if this  _connard inutile_ recovers his legs," she scoffed with a nod at Mar, "there's no way to predict how Clive will be tomorrow." She looked over her shoulder at Malina with a raised brow. "And, I'm guessing _you_  will be going to Vermont, _non_?"

Malina bristled, her hands clenching into tight fists. " _Shut_  it, Daraiya!"

Jace shifted, folding his arms across his chest. "So, what... You, Mar, and Vanessa traveling across the country by yourselves, being hunted the whole way, potentially with a tantrum-prone toddler in tow, or a senile old man?" He looked at Izzy, who'd taken to giving him an incredulous look.

"Jace, this has nothing to do with us. Let them get themselves killed, if they want," she insisted, gesturing towards the Blights. "Our concerns remain here."

Clary worriedly looked between them. She couldn't _believe_  what she was about to say, but... "Cyd's here, in our cells no less. It's obvious the Clave won't give him any kind of fair trial. Any investigation we want into the truth of things, we'll have to manage ourselves."

Izzy couldn't argue with that. She thought back to her survey of the Café au Coeur with Liandra, and deep down she knew Cyd would find himself on the wrong end of a Seraph blade if they didn't intervene. Her eyes slid over to Alec, flickering down to his pocket - and the bagged evidence she guessed remained hidden there - once she knew she'd caught his gaze. "Fine. But we go as a recon mission." Turning back to address Daraiya, she reasoned, "Jace, Clary, and I will help you get Mar, Clive, and Vanessa home on the condition that, once we get there, we get free and unlimited access to your entire Institute. Maven's research records, the operation facilities...  _everything_. We need the full story if we're going to help you protect your family."

Daraiya purred at that. "Ah, _ma cherie_ , I didn't think you cared!"

"I don't," she asserted. "Not about you and Mar, anyway. I care about Gemini, and whatever other children you people have holed up in Colorado. Personally, I'm not certain I'd do much to stop the Clave's vendetta against the rest of you, but the younger generations are still innocent. _They_ , at least, deserve a chance at normal lives."

"Whatever 'normal' they can still get, anyway," Jace muttered darkly. He turned to Alec, brows raised. "It's your call, buddy."

Alec met his gaze, then Clary's, then Izzy's. He thought of the spell card in his pocket, and more distantly of Cyd. It seemed pretty clear they'd eventually have to pick a side, either the Blights or the Clave, and if they we going to side against the Clave he wanted to be  _damn_ sure of their convictions. He addressed his decision to Daraiya, arms folding across his chest. "Alright. I'm guessing you're going to wait until morning to depart?" he asked, nodding towards Mar's legs.

Mar sighed and shrugged. "As much as I would relish the opportunity to be carried in  _Monsieur_  Herondale's strong arms—" He broke off to guard himself from Daraiya's spit. "—I think it would be the better  _tactique_ to wait until I have reclaimed my proper legs, _non_?"

"Good, because I agree," Jace replied. "I am  _not_ carrying you." He turned around to face Izzy and Clary. "We'll head over here first thing in the morning, then?"

"Sure, but what are we going to tell Liandra?" Izzy asked, turning to her brother.

Alec shook his head, wearing a look of complete indifference. "Nothing. I spoke with her just before coming here. Her use of the Institute is contingent upon her cooperation with and deference to my command." He glanced over his shoulder to address Magnus. "I'll tell her we found and recovered Gemini, but that I've placed them in your care due to an injury they sustained."

Magnus shrugged. "That's  _technically_ true."

"The best kind of 'true,'" Jace remarked with a smirk.

"More importantly, it's true enough that she'll go along with it. She wouldn't believe anything more than that anyway, regardless of its accuracy. And as for tomorrow?" He turned back to his sister and shrugged. "You guys are going on a mission. Simple as that. She's not entitled to any further details."

"That's good enough for me," Clary agreed. She turned to the others before suggesting, "We should start heading back. It's a long trek, and we'll want an early start in the morning."

"I'll say," Izzy agreed. "Colorado's a long ways off." She moved over to give Alec a hug, uncertain if he'd be at the Institute by the time they left - but then, she remembered Magnus, and slid in a sly smile. "...I don't suppose our very own High Warlock wouldn't mind lending a hand?"

Magnus gave an overdramatic sigh, playing up the inconvenience and putting the back of his hand to his head. "Oh, well, I suppose I could be of help. We'll need a portal to get ourselves home, anyway!" Lowering his hand, he took Izzy's and escorted her back over to Clary and Jace with a smile. "Shall we, then?"

Alec caught Jace's arm as he turned to join them. "Not you." At Jace's confused look, Alec shot a firm glare at Vanessa, worsening Jace's confusion. To the startled, bashful girl, Alec dropped his voice low enough so only she and Jace could hear him, but kept his tone firm. "There's one more condition to all of this. I don't know what you did to us, and honestly I don't care anymore, but you  _will_ tell Jace about it. Am I clear?"

Jace's alarm was peaking, a hand reaching out to lay on Alec's arm. "Hey, whoa. Alec. What's gotten into you? She's just—"

"No, Jace," Vanessa whispered, her faint voice quivering. It was then that Magnus's portal opened up behind them, the whirling wind making it even more difficult to hear her. Despite her inner turmoil, she forced herself to look up at him, a world of hurt and guilt moistening her violet eyes. "He's right. I... We should talk, if... If that's not too much trouble..."

He furrowed his brow, but nodded, then turned and wove Izzy and Clary on. "I'll catch up later."

Clary clearly still worried about him, her eyes lingering on him and Vanessa a moment longer. Ultimately, however, she trusted Jace to take care of himself one way or another, so she took Izzy's hand with a smile. "Come on. Guess we're the lucky ones who get to face Liandra."

Alec and Magnus stepped up to the portal after them, Jimmy and Naia held securely in their arms. Just as they approached, however, Malina appeared at their side, a soundly-sleeping Clive cradled awkwardly in her arms and a scowl set upon her face. Magnus spoke up with an incredulous look. "Um, excuse me, but I don't recall inviting  _you_ into our home."

"No," she snapped, "but you're a god damn fool if you think I'm going to let you take  _my_ brother and sister to  _your_ home completely unsupervised."

Magnus scoffed, rapidly blinking in his offense. "Pardon? We're doing all this for  _their_ benefit, you know - your benefit!"

"Are you?" Malina challenged, her glare remaining firm. "Because last  _I_ checked, you're fucking a guy that's in bed with the Clave."

" _Excuse_ you, I—"

Alec calmed him with a hand to his lower-back, Jimmy held in the wrap of a single arm. "She's an annoying little shit, but she's not wrong, Magnus." He glanced down to meet Magnus's gaze. "Trust goes both ways. Besides, if she _does_ try anything, we've got plenty enough firepower between you, Madzie, and myself to lock her up."

It was hard to argue on the back of such flattery regarding his powers. Nonetheless, he maintained an air of irritation with an eye-roll. "This way then, turnip. Clive can have the couch - we'll get  _you_ a bedroll."

Alec sighed, wondering what he'd just gotten himself into, and furthermore concerned about what Magnus had mentioned about the Blights' mother. He cast a final, concerned look to Jace, hoping his parabatai wouldn't be too shaken from Vanessa's confession, then finally turned and followed Magnus and Malina through the portal, the swirl of yellow-orange light collapsing upon itself as soon as both feet had crossed the barrier.

With the whipping winds at last silenced, Jace sighed, shaking his head. "Guess I'll be walking back."

"S-Sorry about that," Vanessa whispered, her voice quivering.

Jace's brow furrowed, thoroughly intrigued by what was going on with her. "Let's just... go talk?" he suggested awkwardly, glancing up to find Daraiya. To his surprise, the young woman was leering at him - them? - so he threw a rude gesture her way then turned to lead Vanessa outside. "C'mon. Less crowded outside. Plus, we can't see the stars from in here and, let me tell you, I  _really_ like stars."

It was a vie for a smile, but it didn't seem to work, Vanessa's eyes still trembling as she quietly led the way through the old ruins. "Y-Yes... That's... a good idea, I think..."

* * *

Outside, night had fallen against the city's towering buildings, a cool evening breeze chasing away the day's heat. It was a nice change compared to the stuffy confines of the ruins. Jace closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, stretching out his arms in full enjoyment. "Ahh. You know, you guys should really get some ventilation installed. Can't be healthy sleeping in all that dust and grime every night."

He'd meant it as a pleasant remark to cheer Vanessa up a bit. So, when it backfired, moisture welling up at the corners of her eyes, he quickly lowered his arms and turned to face her, brow furrowed with concern. "What? Was it something I said? I mean, if you  _like_ all that dust, then, you know - more power to you!"

Quickly, she shook her head, her auburn hair bouncing lightly around her soft face. "N-No, it's... it's not you, Jace." Yet again, the sound of his name sent shivers down his spine and goosebumps across his skin. It was the sort of thing he'd come to understand was supposed to be a sign of infatuation, but the feeling was off somehow, like sipping from a glass of cool milk only to discover it'd gone sour.

Jace sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight onto his back foot. "It's probably better if you just cut to the chase," he pointed out. "And... try not to think too much about Alec. He can be a bit abrasive about things." His golden eyes shifted skyward in thought, and beyond his sight Vanessa quietly stole a distantly longing gaze at their unguarded hues. "Well, except when it comes to Magnus, of course. I swear, the very minute anyone so much as mentions that guy, his  _face_! It just... It..." He gestured awkwardly towards his own face, lacking the nuance to rightly explain it.

But Vanessa understood, replying in a wistful murmur, "Yes. It... It must be nice to have something like that."

The remark made him blink, re-framing all of his interactions with the strange young woman thus far. He thought of Clary, of the kinds of conversations they'd had when they first met, and the weeks to follow. A stray thought clenched his chest, thinking of how hurt Clary must have been by his abrupt avoidance - even though he'd been completely unaware of it, and maintained it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help but sympathize. All together, his musings brought Vanessa into a certain perspective, like he'd finally found the perfect shot within a viewfinder. "Wait, is  _that_ what this is all about? You... do you like me?"

Immediately, her face flared red, visible even despite the sparse lighting of the abandoned lot. "W-What? I... Of course I like you. Who... Who doesn't?"

His brow quirked at that. "You know what I mean, Vanessa." Not that he really needed her to answer him anymore - her reaction had been plenty answer enough.

She shifted awkwardly in place, hands fidgeting with the lower edge of her loose blouse. "That's... not what this is about."

He caught himself waiting for her to say his name again, then blinked and shook his head. "Hey," he replied, dropping his flippant manner to make himself more approachable. He extended his hand, reaching for her shoulder. "You can tell me any—"

Suddenly, her hand was pressed to his chest, holding him at a distance. "Please stop," she whispered, her face lowered and hidden behind her hair once more.

Confused, he obeyed, lowering his hand, but as he did he couldn't help but notice the way her fingertips shifted, as though they yearned to clutch his shirt but refused to. Why did it feel so familiar?

_Didn't Clary used to touch me like that?_

_That wasn't Clary._

His manner quieted, but it was not a pleasant still. Rather, it was like the one which came before a terrible storm, when you stood on the edge of town and watched the dark, billowing clouds crawling towards you, devouring the once-blue sky. "...Vanessa?" he murmured, the suspicion seeping into his voice. "What's going on? Why does this... Why do _you_... feel so familiar?"

She bit her lip, then lowered her hand and shied away. "I'm... I'm sorry, Jace," she replied, her voice cracking. "Please understand, I... I did it to help Jimmy and Naia. I believed that I _was_."

His hands tightened into fists, a kind of venom distorting every pleasant moment they'd shared since meeting face-to-face. "Did  _what_ , Vanessa?" He grit his teeth, mostly to keep himself from yelling at her. "It's something to do with Clary, right? Spit it out." A part of him hated the way his words made her crumple. A part of him reveled in it.

Something stirred in the low brush beside them, catching Vanessa's attention a moment before Jace's. Glad to have something to lash out at, Jace drew his Seraph blade. "Ravener. Here for you and the others, I bet."

Vanessa's eyes widened, and she hurried towards it ahead of Jace. "W-Wait! No, this..."

Jace had to fight his every instinct not to yank her back as she crouched low to the ground, hand extending towards the creeping demon, and he only did because he feared his subconscious might hurt her in the process. "Vanessa, what are you  _doing_?!" And yet, even as he spoke, an eerie feeling oozed across his skin and filled his lungs. He wavered, his knees growing weak - ultimately, he had to lower himself to the ground to keep his suddenly conflicting impulses from doing him in completely. Catching himself with his free hand, he looked up at Vanessa, unaware of the way his pupils had dilated but feeling the heat that had spread across his chest. "...Vanessa?" he whispered, voice quivering.

"It's alright," she murmured, voice still broken as though in mourning.

When the Ravener at last emerged from the overgrown grass, it did so in a manner Jace had never seen before: slow and wary, though its serrated teeth clicked and scraped at each other with hunger. Strange, garbled noises spilled from its mouth, a single word only occasionally comprehensible - "Mine." As Jace watched and listened to its bizarre manner, he soon realized the thing wasn't demanding or declaring, it was  _asking_.

And Vanessa responded in kind, though her voice shook with explicit terror. "Yes. Yours." Her hand turned so her palm faced up, and her fingers curled gently to beckon it closer.

Every instinct in Jace's body screamed at him to pounce, to strike down the demon before it hurt her. Before it...  _claimed_ her? His own thoughts clouded his judgement, disarming him with his own disorientation. Why did he regard the Ravener not with righteous fury, but rather intense jealousy?

A small, metallic glint brought him some measure of peace. The small blade Vanessa held in her other hand, hidden from the Ravener's sight, settled a part of his anger, something like a vindictive smirk taking its place.  _He doesn't stand a chance._

"Mine?" it kept asking, somehow more urgent and desperate with every repetition. It had reached her hand at last, but rather than snap its mouth down upon her fingers it crawled its body closer, closer. Its legs found the curve of her palm, and continued creeping forward until they found her wrist, her forearm, her elbow.

Her trembling hand shifted slowly, carefully, around its toxin-slicked body, and her fingertips began to trace its spine the same way one might to a lover. "Yes," she whispered, fingers inching closer and closer towards the back of its head as it continued pulling itself up the length of her arm. Its face had turned, leaning towards hers, its blade-like teeth veering so close to her shaking lips Jace began to doubt his ability to keep his instincts chained.

"Mine? For... me... ?"

The sink of her blade was swift, and went wholly undetected by Jace and the Ravener both. The demon shrieked its vehemence to whatever nightly creatures might care, teeth and legs writhing furiously in desperate attempt to exact some meager degree of vengeance. Clearly, however, Vanessa was at least mildly used to this, having already grabbed the thing by the back of its neck and yanked it away from her. She held it outward, its struggles grasping at nothing but vacant air, the hilt of her blade sticking out of its body but refusing to budge.

Before the Ravener could come up with enough mental presence to say anything either of them could have understood, its life slipped away, its body falling limp in Vanessa's hands and its screams fading back into a quiet, still night. As it did, Jace felt the heat leave his body, and with it the urges that had been waging war within him. His alarm swept back in its place, hitting him like a wave, and an instant later he was on his feet, his heart pounding in his chest and his hand gripping his Seraph blade so tight his knuckles were white.

"What the  _hell_ , Vanessa?!" he yelled, no longer caring for his volume or how much emotion he allowed to cross his tongue. "What did you do?! That Ravener... It almost... You let it... You  _made_ it... ?!"

She rose back to a stand as the carcass collapsed into lifeless cinders and ash, meeting Jace's repulsed stare with her violet eyes - after what she'd just endured, facing Jace hardly seemed a matter of actual "bravery," now more a matter of responsibility. "Yes, Jace. And, that - what I did to that Ravener - it's..." She winced, bracing herself for the full brunt of Jace's anger. "...it's the same thing I did to you. What I've  _been doing_ to you, ever since..." She paused to regather her strength, hands twisting their clutches of her shirt. "...Ever since your fight with Simon."

Jace felt as though she'd just yanked the floor out from under him. His stomach dropped, bringing with it an overwhelming nausea and dizziness that made him stagger. "Y-You... Clary... I... ?" he stammered, reeling and grasping at any coherent thought he could make.

The first of many tears yet to come broke free from Vanessa's glassy eyes. The scene she witnessed was her worst nightmare, worse even than that, and though she knew continuing to explain would only make it more painful and real she also knew she owed Jace every ounce of truth, and truly felt in her heart that she deserved every knife it plunged through her. "All creatures... We can communicate certain things non-verbally and non-visually using chemicals known as pheromones."

"I don't need a biology lesson," Jace snapped, finding something he could latch onto. "You... You've been  _manipulating_ me? For a  _year_?!"

Her heart was already shattered - every additional word he threw her way was another stomp upon another piece, grinding it to a fine dust. "Y-Yes," she admitted, "using pheromones. You, and... and, more recently, Alec..."

Jace's blood boiled in his veins. He didn't fully understand it, but nor did he really need to - just from her admission, as he thought over the past few days, he knew what she was referring to. Alec's off-handed remark about "pretty blondes," and the way he could feel his parabatai growing ill every time Liandra walked by them. "You're  _sick_ ," he spat, now fully understanding why Alec had been so cross with her. "What, you have a problem with him and Magnus, or something?!"

"No!" she quickly cried, eyes widening and raising her hands defensively. "No, I would never! That's not..." She hesitated, mind scrambling to figure out the right way to explain, and her spirit falling ever further when she kept circling around the only way to. "I can't affect a person's... natural inclinations. I can only create 'signals,' if you will. We knew that, with Alec and Liandra specifically, it would trigger a negative response in him. That he'd—"

"That you'd  _hurt_ him," he sharply interjected. "The hell is  _wrong_ with you, Vanessa?!"

She only fell silent and looked away, her tears continuing to trace glistening trails down her cheeks, leaving the point uncontested. How could she argue? He was right - the things she'd done to Alec, to Jace... The rest of her family might disagree, but for her? "...It's unforgivable," she meekly replied. "I know I can't be redeemed for what I've done."

He continued staring at her, unable to believe everything he'd heard. Her complete acceptance of his every accusation, insult, and slight made it difficult to rage at her, which in turn just frustrated him further. How was he supposed to vent if all of his punches flew by as if through thin air? He turned around, his sudden excess of energy turning the hilt of his Seraph blade over and over in his anxious grip. "...You said 'we,'" he finally snarled. Maybe he could find someone  _else_ to thrash at, at least. "Who?"

"Mother," she conceded without protest.

"Your  _mother_ put you up to this?" he gaped. "What the hell kind of parent  _does_ that?!" Not that he had much room to speak, he belatedly thought, but he was in no mood to be giving either Vanessa or her mother any outs.

"I... I told you," she murmured. "It was for Jimmy and Naia. We needed you to accept and protect them, and for Alec to distrust Liandra."

_You'll protect them, right?_

The echo shook through him, bringing with it a harsh wince. Another realization rekindled his anger. "...I can't go back there, can I? To the Institute?" At her blank, questioning look, he added, "Your mother. Whatever part she had in this, she's been doing it at the Institute, right?"

"Oh." To his admittedly curious irritation, Vanessa sounded relieved. "No, she... I don't think she's there anymore," she replied, nodding to where her Seraph blade laid upon the ground, the only sign there had ever been a demon in the first place. Going over and retrieving it, she explained, "I think Mother sent this demon to find me, since I'm not there anymore. And, if I'm not there..." She turned a hopeful look up at Jace. Perhaps what she was about to say might offer him  _some_ modicum of solace? "...She can still show you things, but she can't affect you. My pheromones were what made you believe all of it was real. So, without me there, it'd be no different from if you were watching a movie, so there'd..." She hesitated, only belatedly realizing the harshness of what she was about to say. "...there'd be no point."

Jace scoffed, finally sheathing his blade so he could fold his arms tight across his chest. On some level, what she said made sense - the "Clary" he'd been seeing was an illusion her mother created, and the feelings he'd felt for "Clary" were ones she'd artificially drawn out of him. Nonetheless, that didn't make it any easier of a pill to swallow. What was more, he still had seemingly endless adrenaline coursing through his body, and he hadn't the foggiest idea what he was supposed to do with it all. Run the whole way back to the Institute, maybe. "Your mom. She's a Warlock, right?"

Vanessa nodded, her manner still calm and distant. Now, however, it wasn't out of shy admiration - it was overwhelming guilt, plain and simple. "Yes. I think she might be in your records... I wouldn't expect anything recent, but if you'd like to look for her..." She stood up and turned to face him, hoping in this final, direct gaze she might finally glimpse something softer in his eyes. Seeing nothing but the guarded, cold stare he gave everyone else, she felt what remained of her heart sink, then bowed her head and somberly finished, "Before she married Father and took his name, hers was 'Shard.' Annai Shard."

* * *

Magnus sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as Jocelyn  _finally_ left his loft, freshly-ignorant child in tow. "I don't know why I still bother," he muttered lowly.

"Because you care."

Hot, yellow-orange magic licked his fingertips as he whirled, ready to strike down the intruder. "Name yourself!" he hissed, his glare severe enough it could have shattered glass all on its own.

The old, cloaked woman chuckled, slowly shaking her head. "You won't admit it, of course, but you do."

He frowned, warily eyeing her head-to-toe. Ultimately, he learned nothing, the garment featureless and heavy enough to obscure her shape. "I believe I demanded a name," he remarked, stalking towards her like a lion circling a hyena.

She sighed a dusty, weary sigh. "Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

Her hands extended from the cloak's sleeves as they lifted towards her hood, her fingers as shriveled and wrinkled as raisins. They were decorated with a single, jeweled wedding band, a detail that piqued Magnus's interest if nothing else - already, he was wracking his centuries of memories in search of who this woman could possibly be, or whose wife. A past client, perhaps? She'd spoken as though they knew each other, after all, but even as she lowered her hood, her dark hair spilling out from the folds of thick cloth, no recognition struck him.

...Or, rather...

He frowned, taken aback by what he saw. Her features, though painted with fine makeup, were distinctly Asian in nature - Japanese, to be specific. Her lips were cracked beneath their thin paint, and the skin around her eyes were so rippled she appeared to be permanently squinting. Despite the defiant resilience of her hair, it shone of dark silver rather than the midnight black of youth. All of this would normally be just fine, except that a crown of silver spines poked out from just behind her hairline, and the tongue which wrestled beyond the grin of her pointed teeth was split clear down the middle.

At length, Magnus choked, hardly able to understand what -  _who_ \- he was seeing. "...Annai?" he hesitantly ventured, the glamour falling from his eyes in the futile hope it was somehow messing with his vision. Even as his feline slits shone through, however, still the woman stood before him doused in a terrible degree of age one would  _never_ expect to befall a Warlock. He clenched his teeth, trying to fathom what spell or curse had taken his friend's youth, then turned and hurried towards the nearest bookshelf. "The Fair Folk have a charm which could help, I think. If not, then perhaps Raphael would lend me some venom, and I could mix that with—"

He broke off when he felt thin, frail fingers wrap over his arm. "You think, perhaps, that I did not already try?" she asked, a wry smile disturbing her delicate features.

He scowled at her, gently removing her hand and shifting to hold her by the shoulders. "Stop that," he urged, meeting her with a firm, direct gaze. He searched her face, as though the answer might be buried somewhere in her wrinkles. Despite the grim circumstance, he muttered, "Too much smirking and I fear you may very well lose what little face you have left."

She rolled her eyes and removed his hands with the backs of hers. "Melodramatic as always, I see." Turning slowly, she took careful survey of his loft, eyes idly glazing over his paintings, sculptures, furniture... "I see you've garnered quite the collection over the years."

Magnus stepped swiftly around her, refusing to lose her gaze - and, with it, her attention. "You come here, into my home, looking like  _this_..." He gestured towards her head-to-toe. "...And you want to know about my art? Perhaps a discussion of how you got this way is the more pertinent conversation we should be having?"

"Oh, I already know," she replied with a negligent wave. To his confused look, she chuckled, then drew aside the folds of her cloak to reveal a full and  _swollen_ belly. His lips parted and his eyes widened, and she confirmed his unspoken question with a doting sigh, hand running tenderly long her severe curve. "I am this way because of  _my_ collection."

The way she said it made him start out of his stunned stupor. He blinked and looked up at her, still aghast. A million questions raced through his mind, not the least of which were how she'd managed it all and why the hell she was referring to them like objects. Instead, in spite of himself, he asked the simplest question he had, if only to start the exchange someplace a bit more digestible. "How many?"

To his relief, no one could have possibly missed the fond sparkle in her eye as she regarded the child she carried. "This will be my twelfth."

Magnus had to catch himself on the back of a chair to stay upright. "Tw...  _Twelve_?" he gawked. "That's..." His eyes wandered to the side, trying to recollect the last time they saw each other.

"One per year," Annai replied with a knowing grin. "I found my answer - and a willing mate - not long after you refused me."

His skin crawled at her word choice, but that was hardly his top concern at the moment. He looked her head-to-toe once more, gesturing with his hand. "And this was your answer, I presume?"

"What's a few years of age compared to a child of your own?" Her beady, black eyes watched him for a moment, noting how he quieted into a moment of introspection. "...Would you not have made the same trade?"

Keen eyes narrowed upon her. "Trade with  _who_?" he pressed in non-answer, standing tall once more. "You'd said you just needed to..." He shuddered at the memory. "...'borrow' a working womb. And an egg, I'd presume."

Annai shook her head, strands of silver hair shimmering with an eerie beauty in the over cast morning's light. "The egg is my own. That potion I brought you, back before the Uprising? The egg portion was the only part I could ever get to work. My mate helped me secure the wombs."

"Your 'mate'?" he scoffed, growing irritated with the word's repeated use. His eyes flickered towards her ring. "Don't you mean 'husband'?"

"Mmm," she murmured, lifting her hand to stare thoughtfully at her ring. "I suppose you could call it that."

 _A logistical marriage, then_ , Magnus thought darkly. He sighed, then turned to fetch himself a drink - he was  _far_ too sober for all of this. "Whatever suits you both, I suppose." As he poured the honey-colored liquor into his glass, he continued, "That still doesn't quite explain the womb thing, however..."

He considered his words carefully, detecting the beginnings of a rift between them. Furthermore, he was already weighing the pros and cons of actually learning anything more about the whole thing, considering the position the information seemed likely to put him in with respect to cooperating with the Clave. Annai was a friend, one with whom he shared a particular longing, but if her methods proved to be in too direct a conflict of the Accords, he may very well have to report her and this "mate" of hers, a prospect that didn't sit well with him. Drink in hand, he turned and raised his glass to her. "I'd offer you one, but..." He nodded to her stomach with a lift of his brows, then helped himself to a sip. "Now, about those... 'wombs', you said?" He offered as charming a smile as he could manage, hoping it'd help encourage her to open up. "I'm no doctor, but I'm fairly certain you only have one."

"At a time, yes," Annai agreed with a nod of her head.

"...And," Magnus continued, unable to hide the way Annai's age still disturbed him, "you're either late to the menopause train, or it's... of no consequence... ?"

"They don't last long enough for that," she answered with a cheeky shrug.

He frowned, his drink lingering just before his lips. "What do you mean? You're being terribly cryptic, my dear."

The observation was the first thing that seemed to unsettle her, her gaze drifting as a look akin to guilt hung over her. "...My sweet Bane, I already know you will not like my methods. This is a fact I've come to accept, although my... benefactor... could likely provide you with a similar service."

"Not with a womb?" he mused, struggling to maintain a humorous and lighthearted disposition.

"No," she replied plainly.

Another attempted swig found his glass empty, drawing out another scowl. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he placed the thing down upon a nearby table, turning over what was and wasn't being said in his head. "They're... not Mundane, are they?" he warily ventured. "The wombs, I mean."

"No," she answered again, betraying nothing more than that.

Staring ominously into the middle-distance, Magnus found she didn't need to, distantly recalling an old text he'd come across when he'd gone on a similar frenzy in search of a "cure." Slowly, he looked up at her, seeing a knowing intensity in her eyes. "...Demonic contracts are dangerous," he murmured carefully, "and costly."

Slowly, she nodded, eyes remaining locked upon his own. "Yes, they are."

He pursed his lips. At least this way, leaving everything unsaid, he could feign ignorance about the whole thing - he always loved a good loophole. He stood and approached her once more, hands extending to his sides. "Well, if not to tell me where you're getting your wombs," he sighed aloud, as though he hadn't figured it out anyway, "and if not to convince me to partake in a thing you know I won't accept..." He came to a stop, hands lowering to clasp behind his back. "As glad I am to see you, I have to wonder why you're here, my little Shard?"

A half-smile crossed her wrinkled face. "I need your help."

Immediately, he shook his head and turned around to retreat and refill his glass. "Not with  _that_ , you don't," he retorted with a point towards her unborn child.

"No," she continued, walking up beside him this time. "With this." She extended her arm so he could see the splotches her age had cast across her skin, putting just how severely she'd aged right before him where he couldn't ignore it. She could tell how much it disconcerted him, and was already turning to follow him by the time he tried to move away again. "My magic is fine - it's only my body which has grown frail. However, with all the resources I must pour into my children, there's not much left with which to protect myself. As it is, I was barely able to portal here."

He shot a raised eyebrow at her. "I'm fairly certain you shouldn't be doing that while pregnant." He didn't bother asking where she'd portalled from - he didn't  _want_ to know, as they were well beyond the point of "the less I know, the better."

"Magnus, please," she continued, moving to his other side to grasp his free hand tightly within her own.

He jumped, startled by how cold her hands were, and how pliable and loose her skin, and how sparse her muscles. His expression crumpled, remembering how this hand used to feel like, used to look like - a fairly common happenstance with the vast majority of the people he'd known, of course, but to feel it in a Warlock? He ran his thumb over her knuckles, so lightly he barely felt them, yet still could see the way the motion pulled the skin across her bone, and he couldn't suppress another shudder. "...What do you need of me?" he finally whispered.

She smiled brightly, heaving a sigh of relief. "I've come to accept the fate of my body, but I cannot bear the thought of leaving my children behind. Surely, there must be a way to... ?" Her voice fell off, not rightly sure what she was even asking him for in the first place.

Magnus gave her a long, hard look, then slowly nodded. He slipped out of her hold with an unsettling easiness and swept over to his bookshelf. Without yet saying a word, he scanned across spine after spine of his vast collection, and when he at last found the tome he sought he plucked it from its place as quickly as one might steal a mouse from a snake. It fell open obediently in his hands, a gentle white smoke curling out of his hovering fingers to rapidly flip through its ancient pages.

Annai crept closer, curiosity craning her neck, but just as she drew near enough to glimpse the page Magnus had settled on he slammed the book shut and snapped his fingers, blinking it right back into place upon his shelf. "A seed," he murmured, turning and crossing the loft to where he kept his reagents, all of them neatly organized and stowed in boxes, jars, vials... whatever container fit the need, really. In this case, it was a small packet, which he handed to Annai before rummaging through the rest of his supplies for more ingredients. True to his word, as she held the thing up to the window, she could see the dark silhouette of a small seed.

As she began to fathom how this could possibly help, she turned her head and found Magnus fast at work beside his apothecary set, a wave of his hand and a twist of his fingers bringing a small brew to an instant boil. She frowned and walked over, pocketing the seed in the folds of her cloak. "A potion?" she inquired, though that much was obvious enough.

"Yes," he muttered distractedly, throwing in what looked like a handful of cooking herbs and causing his little cauldron to burst with smoke. He wove it away impatiently, then continued explaining as he carefully poured the stuff into an empty bauble. "Wait until after you give birth, obviously. Once everything's..." He hesitated, warily eyeing her stomach. "...flushed out? Whenever you've fully recovered, and have full use of your magic stores..." He replaced the cauldron upon the table, corked the bauble, then stood up and handed it to her, a gooey green liquid beautifully catching the dim light. "Drink this - the  _entire_ thing - and swallow that seed whole. You'll slowly die over the next few days. Make sure you do it over fertile soil!" he hurriedly added with a cross finger jabbed in her face.

For the first time this whole encounter, it was her turn to rapidly blink. "I'll die? Magnus—"

A risen finger and sly smirk silenced her. "All a part of the spell, my dear. If you die over fertile soil, that seed will be able to take root, and it'll take you with it. You'll become a..." He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at his cabinet before remembering and turning back to her with a snap of his fingers. " _Salix lucida_! The Peachleaf Willow, in layman's terms. That's fairly common across this country, isn't it? I'm sure you'll fit right in wherever you drop."

Annai fixed him with a glare. "A  _tree_? You aim to turn me into a tree?!" She looked down at the bauble in her hand, then back up at him. "Do you know if this will even work? Will I retain my magic?"

To that, he gave her a wicked grin. "I haven't the foggiest idea. So, with or without your magic, if what you want is to live alongside your children..." Suddenly, his expression turned stern, and he folded his arms across his chest, a ringed finger tapping his arm. "...then you'll appease yourself with the children you've already got, and stop doing whatever it is you're doing to have more." A brow lifted as he wryly asked, "Do we have an understanding?"

She stared at him for a long while, clearly displeased with him... but certain this was as much help as she'd be getting out of him. "Fine," she sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. She slipped the bauble into the same pocket as the seed, then turned to show herself out. "This will be my last."

He rolled his eyes, catching her by the shoulder before she'd gone too far. "I'll make you a portal. I don't recommend it, but I'll make you one, if you want it."

Annai offered a small but genuine smile. "I have enough magic to protect my child through the transfer."

Admittedly, the whole thing rather fascinated him, though he shook his head. Standing and moving into position, he idly asked her, "Have you thought of a name?"

"Not yet," she replied, watching on as he wove his magic through the air. The wind kicked up as the portal stretched before them, nearly overpowering her elderly voice as she explained, "We wait until their fifth birthday to name them."

He didn't ask why - given the nature of the conception, he presumed his guess of a high infant mortality rate to be rather spot-on. With the portal opened, he dropped his hands and turned to her, trying to end things on a positive note. "Well, your... seventh, then?" he asked with a questioning look.

She laughed alongside her nod, the elderly quake to her voice still so strange to him. "Yes," she replied, stepping closer to the portal. Beside the wind, Magnus had to struggle to hear her. "If all goes well, she'll be named this Friday."

"Wonderful!" he replied with a clap. "And that name will be... ?"

A beautiful gleam hit Annai's eyes, briefly reminding him of the young Warlock he'd known just over a decade ago, and for many decades before that. She answered as she turned and stepped through, her answer like the fleeting sigh of an evening breeze, or a receding shore.

"Mitomi."


	15. Poisonous Friend

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWdmqA1RSk0&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU&index=15)\--]

The morning was warm and gentle upon their faces, a welcome reprieve from the strains of the past few days. Magnus regarded his boyfriend's face with a quiet fondness, but Alec's silence was plenty sign enough that the man wasn't actually sleeping. "...You  _do_ realize I can tell if you're awake?" he chuckled, a hand moving to gently trace his fingertips along Alec's knuckles.

A smile curled Alec's lips, and he slowly peeked one eye open. "The snoring, right?"

"Consciousness robs you of all sound." Magnus frowned, then amended, "Well, in the mornings, anyway."

Alec shifted onto his side, an eyebrow rising. "Oh?" His hand turned to bind Magnus's fingers in his own. "We can do something about that, you kno—"

"MORNING!!!"

The tiny cry was hardly enough warning. Madzie flopped upon them with spread arms, the bulk of her weight somehow finding enough of Alec's gut to knock the wind out of him and a stray hand slapping the side of Magnus's face.

" _Madzie_!" Magnus tried to scold, but he was having trouble containing his laughter in the face of Alec's recovering wheezing. He sat up, pulling their little girl into a tight bear-hug, then soon had her in a squirming mess beneath an assault of relentless tickling.

A hand still rubbing the soreness she'd left upon his stomach, Alec sat up as well, smiling as he shook his head. "What have we told you about entering without knocking?"

Magnus finally let up enough to let her settle down in his lap. Sharp child that she was, Madzie looked up at each of them in kind with a sweet smile she knew neither of them could bear to reprimand. "I'm sorry Daddy, Papa." She lifted and wriggled her fingers, twisting around to look up at Magnus. "We gonna make them pancakes?"

"Them," as in the four strangers occupying their home.

"Yes, Sweet Pea. If you'd like to?" Magnus was relieved Madzie had taken well to their visitors. After hearing his recollections of the mysterious Annai and her peculiar affliction, Alec warmed up to the idea, but maintained a certain degree of distance. After all, if things took a turn for the worse, it remained very possible he'd have to imprison, derune, or even execute one or more of the Blights. It made sense that he remain emotionally impartial should it come to that - Magnus too, though he currently simply hoped it _wouldn't_ come to that.

Alec smiled at them, the warm expression giving Magnus hope for the future. "You two taking special requests yet?" he chuckled. His eyes shifted hopefully to Magnus. "Say... blueberries?"

"Hmm, I don't know," Magnus coyly mused, consulting his tiny assistant. "Fresh blueberries are hard to come by when they're not in season! What do you think? Has Daddy earned himself some—"

A horrid, agonizing scream drowned out his question. Alec sprung from their bed and bolted into the next room. Magnus quickly scooped Madzie into his arms before she could run after him. "No no, Madzie! Stay with Papa!"

By the time they arrived on the scene, disheveled and still in their various forms of sleepwear, Malina was already hunched over their couch, arms wrapped tightly around her brother. Holding him close to her, his screams muffled into her body, she gently rocked him back and forth, though she offered no words of comfort. She looked up at them and winced, a rare sliver of guilt flickering across her face. "Sorry," she muttered so lowly Clive's screaming nearly overpowered her. "Should've warned you."

Magnus caught Alec's arm as he started forward, passing him an imploring look. It was clear he'd been about to butt heads with her, but at Magnus's encouragement he settled down a bit and altered course. "...This happens every morning?" he asked, finding some sympathy for the two of them. It _was_  a rather terrifying thing to deal with day-to-day, he supposed.

"Yeah," Malina admitted. "Ever since Dad fucked up his brain."

Magnus quickly did what little he could to cover Madzie's ears and shot Malina a searing look. She merely rolled her eyes at him, and so he begrudgingly moved on, turning a frown towards Clive. "Maven did this to him?"

Before she could answer, Clive drew her attention back to him with the clutch of his small hands. He'd stopped screaming, slowly lifting his snow-capped head out from her embrace in a mild daze. "Ah... Th-Thank you, Malina..." His voice was delicate and hesitant, much more like Vanessa's than any of the others, but held that ethereal taint which gave all Seelies a certain foreboding air.

"You alright?" she asked, carefully looking him over. She put on a smirk, trying her best to start his day on a positive note. "How old are you today?"

"I'm—" At that moment, his glassy eyes had fallen upon Magnus, and suddenly his whole being surged with energy. "Magnus!" he cried, twisting out of Malina's arms and jumping to his feet. "You're—"

He stopped short, seeing the shock upon Magnus's face and the protective stretch of Alec's arm. Behind him, Malina had stood and grabbed his hand - perhaps his sudden departure from her side had bothered her, but now she showed only concern, wariness, as she regarded her brother.

Clive gradually calmed, and soon an empty, polite smile had taken residence upon his face. "...meeting me for the first time, aren't you?" he finished.

But it was already too late - Magnus was too perceptive to miss Clive's original mindset. In conjunction with what little he knew of Clive, he couldn't shake the feeling he should be very, _very_  worried. "Technically, we met yesterday," he finally replied, "but I suspect you were too young to remember. _You_ , however, are from the future, aren't you?"

Clive winced, and parted his lips to reply. Malina's hand tightened in his before he could. "Don't answer that," she replied sharply. She eyed Magnus for a moment, but ultimately turned to Alec, much to their surprise. "He's a Seelie, remember? He can't lie to us about things, and he never learned how to talk his way around it. You have to be careful when you ask him shit about the future."

She'd assumed he'd be the more objective of the two. Given even he had picked up on Clive's Magnus-centered alarm, she was poorly mistaken. "Why? He can tell us if Gemini will be okay, right?" He turned from Malina to look eagerly at Clive. "How does it all turn out? Do they become parabatai? Does it work?"

Magnus reached for his hand, trying to calm and steady him. Malina grit her teeth, then shot Clive a warning glare. " _Don't_."

Clive was staring at Alec, expression drenched in helpless defeat. They could tell something about Alec's words, about his desperate look, struck deeply with the warped Seelie, and they could see in the way he'd tensed and choked upon his own breath that he was caught in an internal war, fighting against every desire to say  _something_. He searched the room for some kind of grounding, and only then saw the pair of dark, quiet eyes peering around the corner at them. His manner relaxed at this, and he found his precarious smile once more.

"Ask them," he offered, hand lifting towards the timid children. It appeared to bring him some modicum of comfort, but something else still ate at him, enough that he turned away from them and lowered himself onto the couch, unable to bare so much as _looking_ at their hosts for the time being.

Alec and Magnus let him be for now, partly because Malina looked like she might stab them if they didn't but mostly because Gemini posed a more immediate problem. Magnus gingerly traded Madzie over to Alec, the Shadowhunter content to occupy himself with their daughter while Magnus dealt with the Blights. "C'mon," he cheerily whispered into her ear. "Teach Daddy how you and Papa make pancakes?"

It was an odd thing for Magnus to find himself responsible for Shadowhunters. However, between his own demonic blood and his ties to their mother (or, "Brood Mother," he thought with a shudder), Alec judged him far better equipped to handle the Blights. For the most part, Magnus rather agreed, but they both doubted the rest of the Institute beyond their little group would appreciate the deferral. Luckily, none of them were privy to that information, anyway.

As Magnus approached Gemini, he started to understand what Alec meant when he'd called the young children his "fan club." The closer he got, the more he realized they were frozen not in fear or shyness but simply because even a tiny wave might rapidly spiral out of control into an endless stream of ecstatic energy. He sucked in a small breath, for once not entirely sure how to best approach these young, fascinated and equally fascinat _ing_  minds. "Hello there," he finally landed on, feeling a bit lame about it. He extended his hand, his rings glinting gently in the morning's rays. "My name's—"

"Magnus Bane!" Naia squeaked. Her own words appeared to surprise her, and as soon as she'd spoken she withdrew back into herself.

Beside her, Jimmy receded as well, his wide eyes flickering from ring to glittering ring. Suddenly, they snapped up to meet Magnus's eyes, and he blurted, "Show me!"

"Cut it out!" Malina snapped from her perch upon the couch's armrest. "Be _nice_."

Magnus shook his head and wove his hand at Malina. "No, no, it's alright," he reassured. He remembered Max, and the way he'd made the same request - the unabashed and insatiable curiosity of children never ceased to amaze him. Of course, unlike with Alec's little brother, Jimmy looked sooner anxious than judgmental, sooner begging than demanding. As he'd done with Max, he lifted a finger and chuckled, "I only show them to my _closest_  friends!"

He may as well have told them Santa Claus was both real and waiting outside to take them on a sleigh ride around the world. They grabbed each other's hands and huddled close together, staring intently at Magnus's eyes as though nothing else in the world even existed.

Magnus wove his hand between them, and the glamor fell away, replaced with a sweep of brilliant, glistening yellow. A shared gasp escaped the twins, tiny mouths hanging ajar.

Malina scowled at them. "Don't _stare_!"

Magnus was starting to really wonder why Malina appeared to have it out for him. He made a mental note to ask her... eventually.

Regardless, the twins failed to listen to her, much to Magnus's admittedly spiteful glee. "Where'd they come from?!"

He hadn't caught which of them asked the question, looking confusedly between them. "You mean... ?" he murmured, answering his own question before he'd finished asking. _Like their siblings._  He smiled kindly and replied, "No, little ones. I was born with these."

Their faces brightened at the news, finding and clinging to this one piece of information that made them feel somehow connected to Magnus. When they spoke again, Magnus understood _why_. "Like Iggy?!"

Magnus looked over his shoulder to Malina, who sighed but nonetheless translated, "Ignis. Now that Caine's gone, he's the oldest. He's the Warlock of the bunch." His surprised blinking reminded her he hadn't been around for that part of the conversation, but she only rolled her eyes again in reply.

So, he turned back to Gemini with a sigh, but put on a smile nonetheless. "Yes. They're my Warlock mark - all of us have them."

He got a varied response at that, with Jimmy falling into a blank confusion and Naia frowning. "But Iggy doesn't have those," she replied, a small hand pointing at Magnus's eyes.

"N... No, not my eyes, I meant..." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then stood and wove for them to follow him. "Nevermind. Come, do you mind if I examine your minds?" When they didn't follow, he paused to look them over and explained, "You took a nasty hit yesterday, Jimmy. We should make sure you're alright."

For a moment, they appeared torn, wavering between an eagerness to interact with someone they idolized but wary of what being "examined" truly entailed. After all, they weren't dumb - even before they'd really understood their Ascension, they'd picked up on the subtle signs of fear and mistrust the Shadowhunters around them displayed. By now, they were quite familiar with what things those feelings might drive a person to do. They turned to Malina for guidance, knowing they could _always_  trust their family.

She saw the look in their timid gazes, and knew well what was going through their delicate minds. She nudged her head towards Magnus. "Go on. If he tries anything stupid, I'll gut him."

The threat - and the twins' resulting grins - unnerved Magnus, but hey, whatever got them to cooperate, right? Besides, he wasn't planning on doing "anything stupid," so it'd be fine. Probably.

The pair scurried over to the leather chair beside him and piled into its sleek confines. "Me first!" they cried in unison, gazing expectantly up at him with wide, brimming smiles.

Apparently, they hadn't noticed their own synchronization, a fact which drove Magnus to wonder just how separate the two ever _actually_  got. "Jimmy first," he awkwardly replied, kneeling before them and raising a hand to hover beside the boy's head. "He's the one who got hit, after all."

As his fingers twisted through the air, a soft blue smoke curled from his fingertips. It slithered across the short distance separating Magnus's hand from Jimmy's temple, then plumed against the boy's skin. It crept along like an early morning fog across distant hills, fading once it strayed too far from its source. His magic seeped through Jimmy, and through it Magnus could feel the opposing energies writhing within the young boy. The Angelic power of the Nephilim stung familiarly against his touch, and beneath it writhed the muted but unmistakable allure of the demonic Cecaelia, warped by the Clave's antidote into a dormant state but present nonetheless. His investigation complete, he withdrew from Jimmy, then turned to Naia and performed the same slow, methodical procedure, of course unveiling the same results.

Satisfied, he nodded and relaxed a bit, standing and flourishing his hands to his sides. "All done!" he happily chirped. "The two of you are fully recovered from yesterday's incident!"

The pair smiled brightly up at him, wriggling excitedly in their seats. Either they were completely unaware of what Magnus had actually been doing, or at least wholly unconcerned about it. Instead, as they sat there beaming up at him in starstruck fascination, the interaction merely threw open their floodgates, now convinced they could trust the Warlock and taking his warmth as invitation to sate their rampant curiosities.

"What else can you do? Can you summon demons? How old are you? Do you breathe fire? Can you make it snow? You never need to sleep right? Do you eat? What kind of demon made you? Have you ever—"

" _Enough_ , you two!" Malina finally snapped, startling Magnus out of his pensive stare. He hadn't even noticed he'd frozen up beneath the stream of questioning. He had a thought to thank Malina in some small, subtle way, but her follow-up commentary wiped the idea clear from his head. "He's just a Warlock, just like Mom and Ignis. There's nothing special about him."

That was about as much as he was willing to take from the insolent little girl, turning to her with a scowl and folding his arms tight across his chest. "Perhaps you'd like to enlighten me about just what it is I've done to earn your ire?"

For a moment, it looked like she might do just that - but after a glance towards the twins, and a gentle touch from Clive, she bit back her tirade and looked away with a huff. "Just ask them already. Putting it off ain't gonna make it any easier."

Aside from his frustration with her, Magnus couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit bad. If he  _had_ done something, even if she was just under the impression he had, he very much wanted to correct the problem. No one  _wanted_ to be hated, after all. (Well, for the most part.)

Behind him, he could feel the anxious energy of the twins rustling about in his chair. "Ask us what?" Jimmy replied, Naia's hand moving to grasp his. She smiled and added on in a manner rather like she was voicing her actual thoughts, "Do we get to help Magnus?"

He turned to regard them with a wrinkled brow. "Ah... Well..."

"Breakfast!"

 _Alec to the rescue_ , he thought with a relieved sigh.

Along the edge of his vision, he noted Malina seemed a bit disgruntled by the interruption, but wasn't about to let that get in the way of appeasing her appetite. With a lifted nose, she eyed Alec and Madzie's approach, and more specifically the large plate of pancakes Alec was carefully setting upon the low table.

"Well, uh," he replied, giving Madzie a final wide grin before glancing awkwardly between the motley crew of guests. "...help yourselves?"

The twins didn't need to be told twice, immediately leaping out of their chair to bound towards the plate, stopping only once they noticed Madzie standing beside the table. They quickly scrambled to a halt, and for a few brief but tense seconds the others watched the three children, uncertain just how well they'd take to each other.

Madzie looked hesitantly up at Magnus, who encouraged her with a small smile and a nod. Inspired, she put on a smile of her own, then stuck out her hand. "Hi. I'm Madzie!"

The twins beamed, both reaching out to shake her hand at the same time - it surprised Madzie a bit, but neither of them seemed to notice, introducing themselves with overlapped voices. "I'm Jimmy! I'm Naia!"

Alec shook his head as the three of them each grabbed a pancake and skittered off to entertain each other. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"You will," Clive softly replied from the couch. He'd sat up and apparently resolved himself enough to be able to interact with them again, though his eyes remained averted and a distant sadness softened his tongue. In these regards, he seemed very much like Vanessa, save for a kind of hopelessness in place of her underlying guilt.

Magnus picked up the plate and held it out for him and Malina. "I realize all of this must be very difficult for you," he replied, trying to remain sensitive to Clive's unique situation. "Is there anything you can tell us to... well, help us understand?"

"You mean about the future," he replied gently, taking a pancake into his fragile hand. Up close, Magnus could see just how delicate he was, every bit like a rose who'd been robbed of its thorns. It made him seem so very unlike the other Fair Folk, and Magnus found he couldn't rightly say whether or not that was a good thing.

Clive contemplated the pancake in a manner that mirrored the consideration of his words before at last finding something to offer them. "I think the most difficult thing to realize about the future is that it is not a single, fixed point in time," he replied, one finger tracing the continuous edge of his pancake. "This is particularly true in my case - a moment you consider to be the future, I consider to be the past." The ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his lips, gone as soon as it appeared. "Anyway... I suppose my point is that, even if you  _could_ change 'the future,' you wouldn't be changing a single moment in time, but rather all of time itself. It'd be like..."

He looked around the room for something to help him explain. Eventually, his eyes settled on the view out their balcony - or, more specifically, the city beyond, and the river he knew to weave through it. "Like placing stones in a stream," he finally continued, a fondness brightening his expression. "One or two here or there likely won't make much of a difference, just a bit of harmless rippling, but if you place too many of them, or if they're too large, eventually the water will begin to alter its course. You'll create a fork, and the displaced water will flood and eat away at the the shores, and eventually you'll not have merely altered the course of the water but changed the river as a whole, and the land around it, and the creatures within it. You haven't changed the future so much as simply created a different one, one which may or may not be better than the last - because, even if your one stone was better, it's not just your stone that's changed."

Alec looked like his brain was melting. Magnus, who'd paid more attention to Clive himself than what he was saying, couldn't shake the feeling the boy was talking to himself as much as them, like he was trying to convince himself of his own words and the importance of leaving the future untouched. His heart went out to him, imagining how powerless he must have felt in the face of it all, though he admitted it didn't shake his curiosity of just  _what_ Clive wanted so badly to change. "It must be very frustrating, seeing the river and knowing you can't alter its course."

Clive half-smiled at that. "Can't... Shouldn't... It's true, things can seem bleak and ugly, but sometimes it's beautiful, too. For example..." He turned his head, nodding to where Madzie and the twins played in the adjoining room. "...there's a certain joy in witnessing the bloom of what will one day become a magnificent garden."

Alec turned to follow his gaze, and when he did Madzie happened to look up and catch his eyes. She beamed at him, then scurried over to grasp his hand and claim another pancake. "Daddy! Can Jimmy and Naia stay?" she pleaded, gazing up at him with those wide, dark eyes of hers.

Malina spoke for him, back to her usual curt tone. "No. You people need to decide what the hell you're going to do with them, so  _I_ can decide whether or not to take you off my shit list."

Magnus and Alec both glared at her, Alec's hands subconsciously covering Madzie beside him though by now it was pointless to try and shield her from Malina's crude language. He only hoped it didn't leave a lasting effect upon the little girl, sighing as Jimmy and Naia came walking over to join them.

"Do with us?" Naia asked, looking curiously up at Magnus. He and Alec noted with a shudder that Jimmy was mimicking her, the differences between them fading bit by bit until they no doubt fully returned to their eerie synchronization.

As much as Magnus hated to admit it, Malina was right - they'd already wasted precious time avoiding the looming question, perhaps because the antidote had made it so easy for them all to pretend like everything was okay, like there  _wasn't_ a demon inhabiting them, no doubt grasping for permanent, indomitable control. He knelt beside them and took their hands, one in each of his, running his thumbs along their soft, tiny knuckles. "Jimmy, Naia... We think we know why Ms. Thistlebrook and your father wanted to make you two parabatai."

Their faces fell in unison, Jimmy speaking for them both. "Because of CiCi, right?"

To that, all of them - save for Clive - were struck with shock. "You  _named_ it?" Malina blurted, standing up from the couch's armrest.

The way they both frowned at her made all of them tense, unsure whether or not they would actually act upon their defensive aggression. " _Her_." When they turned back to Magnus, they seemed desperate, their hands clutching his tightly. "She's our friend, Mr. Bane. CiCi protects us. Makes us stronger."

Well,  _that_ was a problem none of them had anticipated. Magnus would never have imagined Shadowhunters  _befriending_ a demon, though he supposed there was a lot about the current situation he'd never have imagined. He sensed the topic would require a bit more delicacy than he'd anticipated, and so he chose his words carefully, facing their unnerving stare head-on so he could look each of them directly in their eyes. "I understand. CiCi is a part of you, what makes you both special. We...  _I_ , at least... don't want to change that. To change  _you_." He softened his gaze, hoping to appeal to the protective nature he knew to be in Nephilim, and that they'd displayed when Jimmy got hit in the first place. "By that same token, nor do any of us want to  _lose_ you. We all worry that CiCi might... might overpower and subdue you. That she'll take over your minds, and then it'll be just CiCi - no 'Jimmy' or 'Naia'."

They looked mortified by the mere suggestion. "CiCi wouldn't do that... would she?"

"We don't know," Magnus replied. "She's a demon. I don't doubt she wishes no ill will upon the two of you - after all, she exists in  _your_ body - but I cannot say the same for everyone else. For Malina, Clive, Ignis, and all the rest of your brothers and sisters. For your mother."

At that, they grew quietly contemplative, withdrawing into each other as much for comfort as guidance. On some level, they understood the danger Magnus spoke of, or at least that those around them feared _something_  relating to "CiCi." Magnus felt terrible for having even put the question to them. Eventually, they looked up at Malina - only Magnus noticed her stiffen at their look, inspiring them to quickly turn instead to Alec to ask their wary question.

"Will it hurt her?"

Alec hadn't been expecting to be addressed, and was taken aback by their inquiry. After all, from _his_  perspective, the question wasn't a question at all: how could anyone trust a demon enough to consider them a true "friend"? Nonetheless, he recognized this was a matter he simply wasn't close enough to in order to understand, just as once he hadn't understood why Magnus took such objection to a not-so-simple DNA test. It was only because he'd gained a lot of experience in such matters through Magnus and the Downworld Cabinet meetings that he was able to cordon off his own feelings and answer the twins objectively, _factually_ , in such a manner that the decision could remain theirs and theirs alone.

"We don't know," he answered honestly, crouching so he'd be on more even ground with them. "All of this is very new for us - for _everyone_. The hope is that it would merely strengthen your own bond between each other so that you'd be able to... to work with the... with _CiCi_... as equals." Before they took too much comfort in that, he quickly added, "It _is_  an Angelic bond, though. It's possible it could cause CiCi to..." He hesitated, searching for a kinder word, but ultimately failed. "...to deteriorate. There's even a chance it'd wipe her out completely, leaving you both... um..." He wanted to say "normal," but thought better of it. "...without your Ascension."

They tilted their heads curiously, their lack of emotional reaction to all that disturbing Alec to his core. "Like you and Mr. Herondale?"

Alec winced, but only replied, "Yes."

They all watched the twins debate their decision with rapt anxiety. Even Madzie, who only marginally understood what was going on, seemed affected by it all, her small hand slipping into Alec's to seek out a small, comforting squeeze. Still, she looked around at their guests, Malina growing restless beside a calm and resigned Clive. His disposition intrigued her - when she met his gaze, he smiled at her, nodding subtly.

Even as Madzie contemplated Clive's odd motion, the twins suddenly looked up at Alec, a fiery determination furrowing their brows and pursing their lips. "Okay!" they announced in perfect unison, little hands balled in each other's grasps. "We'll become pabraboratye."

Malina cringed, while Magnus and Alec struggled to stifle a laugh. "...It's 'parabatai,' twerps."

They blinked and looked at her, then smiled. "Yeah. That."

Alec sighed with heavy relief, but just to make sure they actually knew what they were talking about he asked, "You're sure? Once you become parabatai, once you're bonded to each other... there's no going back. You only get one chance at a parabatai, and it's for life. You understand that?"

They shot such harsh scowls at him he nearly toppled back onto the floor. "Why would we  _want_ to go back? No one else is good enough!"

"Okay, okay, darlings," Magnus chuckled, standing up beside them and sharing a triumphant smile with Alec. "This is quite special, isn't it? You'll need to prepare the Institute for the ceremony?"

"Yeah," Alec replied, standing up and releasing Madzie so she could return to amusing herself. "It shouldn't take long, though. I just need to—"

" _No_!" the twins suddenly cried.

Alec started, then looked questioningly to Malina and Clive. To his surprise,  _both_ of them looked clueless, only shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads. Magnus meanwhile approached them, laying a hand upon Naia's shoulder and drawing their attentions. "What do you mean?" he asked, as kindly as possible. "You changed your mind? You don't wish to become parabatai?"

"No, we do," they replied, though only Naia was looking at Magnus - Jimmy still had his gaze fixed upon Malina. "We gotta do it at _home_ , though!"

"Back in Pine Brook?" Magnus looked up at Alec, who was still looking to Malina and Clive for guidance. Malina appeared wholly unconcerned with it all, and Clive was avoiding them again, staring quietly at the half-eaten pancake in his hands. Magnus reached out to touch Alec's arm, providing what little encouragement he could with the soft rub of his thumb. "It's up to you, Alec. I was going to portal the others over anyway, there's no reason I can't bring the twins with me."

Alec narrowed his eyes, watching Clive shift uncomfortably upon the couch, knowing the Seelie had no words of advice to offer them - none he'd be _willing_  to offer them, anyway. "I don't know," he finally sighed, turning his worried gaze to meet Magnus's. He took his boyfriend's hand into his own and thought back to last night's conversation, to Magnus's story about the Warlock named Annai.

_If this is all her... Jimmy and Naia weren't born yet. I can't help but feel like if maybe I'd done more, if I'd cared more... I have to see for myself. I couldn't save Annai, but if I can at least save her children, keep them from hurting anyone else, then that will be enough._

No amount of protesting could change his mind about that - it rarely ever did, once his mind had been set. Alec hoped perhaps Clive's silent anxiety might change things, but the way Magnus's hands clung to his own, as though uncertain if they'd ever get to do so again, betrayed otherwise. The stakes had risen, but though neither of them could quite tell how high or in what way it only served to make Magnus that much more convinced he _had_  to help.

And admittedly, without Clive's input, Alec didn't exactly have many arguments against it. _It's just a parabatai ceremony. Maybe things go south and the Blights turn on us, but even if Magnus and the others are outnumbered... Well, Magnus can just portal everyone to safety, right?_  Alec fixed Magnus with a firm gaze. "Keep enough energy in you to make a portal. _Always_. Alright?"

Magnus laughed, leaning into the hand that'd come to cup his face. "Alexander, I'm the High Warlock of Brooklyn. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself."

"Doesn't mean you'll _do_  it," Alec muttered knowingly. He pulled Magnus forward to press a kiss to his forehead, then another to his lips, knowing it wouldn't be long before he started missing their tender touch. Finally, he looked down at the twins, regarding the eager pair with a reluctant smile. "Alright, Magnus will take you back home with the others. Don't give him any trouble, okay?"

"Okay!" they chirped together, gathering closer beside each of Magnus's legs.

Madzie, who couldn't help but feel a bit jealous at how well her Papa and new friends had taken to each other, gazed anxiously up at Magnus, leaving Alec's side to reach up at Magnus in beg of a hug. "You're leaving?"

"Just for a little while, Sweet Pea," he assured her, kneeling so he could capture her in a tight squeeze. His ringed fingers stroked her wild hair, and with a chuckle he snapped his fingers. As he pulled away, he admired his handiwork, Madzie's unruly locks tamed into neat braids decorated with her favorite clips and ribbons. "I'll be back before you know it."

" _Promise_?" she pressed, tiny fingers wandering to trace the embroidered collar of his silk pajamas.

He cupped her face, holding her like the precious angel she was. "I promise." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then stood and spread his arms wide. "Now, then. I believe it is my turn, my dear?"

She grinned up at him, then lifted both hands and snapped her fingers. In an instant, his pajamas were traded out for a tasteful coordination of deep purple and cobalt blue, punctuated with golden jewelry and accents. Thin, pink streaks highlighted his hair, and a similar hue glittered around his gleaming, black-lined and teal-shadowed eyes.

He observed himself in a nearby mirror, soon giving an approving nod and stroking Madzie's head. "Well done! You have  _exquisite_ taste, my dear!"

A skill Magnus had spent _a lot_  of time teaching her, Alec noted with a snicker.

Magnus turned next to Malina and Clive, pulling back his cuffs in preparation for the portal back to Renwick's. "And what about you two? I believe, Malina, you mentioned something about Vermont? If you like, you can—"

"No." Malina hadn't even looked at him as she gave her sharp reply. Already, she was on her feet and marching towards their front door, sparing little more than a wave to bid her siblings goodbye. "Gotta run an errand," she muttered under her breath. Before they could inquire further, she yanked open their door and stormed through, letting its own weight slide it back shut.

"Seriously, what the  _hell_ is wrong with her?!" Alec finally burst, only belatedly realizing what he'd said - or, rather, who he'd said it around - and passing Magnus an apologetic look. The Warlock was a  _much_ bigger stickler about child-safe language than he'd ever be, he imagined.

Magnus forgave it with a sympathetic smile. After all, the bulk of Malina's aggression appeared to be aimed at him, so it was no surprise Alec felt more than a touch defensive about it all. He turned to Clive with a sigh. "Do we ever get along, do you know?"

The question made Clive visibly cringe. "N... No, you don't," he replied. Both Magnus and Alec could tell there was more he wanted to say on the matter, but he refrained, lowering his face and forcing a smile. "If... If it's alright with you..." He looked over at Madzie, her bright face bringing his smile to a more genuine shine. "I'd like to stay here. I can watch over Madzie while you're at the Institute." This he addressed to Alec, looking up at the Shadowhunter.

Alec frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "We just met, Clive. What's more, you're clearly hiding something from us - something  _important_. You expect us to leave you here alone, responsible for both Madzie and our home?"

A seriousness overtook Magnus as well, his body subconsciously shifting protectively closer to where Madzie still stood beside him. "How do we know we can trust you?"

Clive appeared to experience something of an epiphany, like he'd finally found the place for a particular puzzle piece he'd been struggling with. "Yes, of course," he replied with a nod, then lowered his face, his expression fraught with effort as he scoured his memory. "Ah, I believe it was..." His eyes flickered over to check the glowing LEDs of a nearby digital clock, and though something like nausea appeared to disturb him he continued, "I met you two days from now, Magnus. When I did, you told me to tell you this. You said it'd convince you, though..." He cut off awkwardly, struggling a bit before finishing, "...though, you never specified what it'd convince you  _of_. I see, now, this must be it." He turned to fix his glassy eyes upon Magnus, meeting the Warlock's gaze directly, and replied as evenly and composed as he could manage, "You said to mention the omamori you keep hidden in your inside pocket, and the date [September 19th, 2016](http://www.nephilimupdates.com/2017/09/15/time_line_season_2/)."

They both blinked at him in surprise, which quickly turned to aggression. "How do you know about that?" Magnus demanded, his hand subconsciously slipping under his jacket - to his great relief, the omamori charm was still there, right where he taught Madzie to place it.

"You told me about it," Clive repeated with a somber gaze. Clearly, he wasn't always quite so certain of things as he seemed - he'd truly believed the two of them would just accept his words.

"What about the date?" Alec questioned, a hand laying upon Magnus's arm for comfort. "Is it supposed to mean something to us?"

To that, Clive could only helplessly shake his head. "I don't know." He appeared to want to say something more, but he held his tongue.

Magnus raised a hand before Alec could press him further, his other rubbing his temple in thought. "I'm sure we can figure it out. Late summer of last year? What was going on at the time?"

As Alec's eyes shifted back and forth in thought, counting from what dates he  _did_ remember - the day he'd met Magnus, for example - a realization dawned on him, and he paled. "...Jocelyn," he choked out, throat twisted with the lingering guilt.

Magnus looked to him with worry, then looped an arm around Alec's waist to pull him in close. "The Rite of Mourning," he murmured softly. He furrowed his brow and shook his head, his hand idly stroking the small of Alec's back. "That can't be it. I don't see how I could ever think dredging that up would inspire a sense of trust."

Alec's gaze had fallen, swimming through various conversations he'd already had with himself a million times over. His arm tightened about Magnus's waist, and Madzie shifted around them to meet his gaze. "You okay, Daddy?"

He sighed, moving a hand to pet her head. "Yeah, sweetie. I'm—" In an instant, his face brightened. "Madzie!" he cried, suddenly dropping to her level and taking her hands into his.

Magnus rose a brow and looked between the two of them. "What? Madzie wasn't there - we hadn't met yet."

When Alec turned to look at him, Magnus was relieved to find not a trace of Alec's past darkness touching his face. " _You_ hadn't," Alec explained, "but  _I_ had. That same day, before the Rite, when I went with Clary to visit Iris Rouse."

"Nana," Madzie replied, her voice touched by a soft sadness.

Magnus smiled, though his brow remained furrowed. "But I wasn't there, and you never mentioned that to me. How could I tell Clive if I didn't know?"

Clive smiled, but even before he began to speak he saw Magnus and Alec both arrive upon the answer, and in turn the trust he'd been told he'd receive. "Because I just told you. Now, in two days' time, you can tell me."

"A time loop," Magnus murmured, contemplating the phenomena. "A cyclical dependency which can only exist if you're really from the future, and I really trust you enough to tell you that  _in_ the future."

"Which... can only happen if we trust him  _now_?" Alec replied as he stood back up, trying to follow along.

"You don't necessarily need to trust  _me_ ," Clive pointed out. "Just your future selves... the future Magnus."

Magnus sighed and looked to Alec. "Personally, I'm undecided. All of this is a bit of a mind-trip, even for me. What do you think?"

Alec studied Magnus for a while before looking back at Clive, turning all of this over and over in his head. "I'm pretty sure Clary's the only person who remembers that specific date, and I seriously doubt she'd run around telling people about it -  _me_ in particular."

Clive winced. "I'm... I'm sorry... I presume this 'Jocelyn' was of special significance to you all?"

Alec and Magnus exchanged a look. "Yeah," Alec replied, though he didn't elaborate. "Anyway, I can't think of any reason Clive would think to mention that date to us other than... than this 'time loop' thing."

"Well, if you're okay with it..." Magnus replied, turning back to Clive.

Alec did the same, finally nodding at the bizarre Seelie. "Alright, Clive. You can stay here with Madzie while we're both out." He turned a raised brow down at their daughter. "And you feel free to go  _full gill_ on this guy if he tries to hurt you, okay?"

The twins, all but forgotten behind Magnus, shuffled forward a bit to scowl up at Alec - they didn't know what "full gill" meant, but they could tell it was bad. "Don't hurt our brother!"

Clive quickly raised his hands to calm his siblings. "It's alright, you two. Nothing's going to happen to me.  _Or_ Madzie," he added with a sincere look first at Alec, then to Magnus.

"Very well, then," Magnus replied with a nod, mostly satisfied with how things had turned out. "I suppose it's about time we got going then, hm?" He crouched to give Madzie another tight hug, gave Jimmy and Naia each a readying pat to their backs, then offered Clive a little bow of his head in parting. "I suppose I'll see you in a couple days? I look forward to it, Clive."

Clive managed a smile and nodded, though he remained silent.

Last but _far_ from least, Magnus turned to Alec, sliding his arms low around his boyfriend's waist to pull him in close. It immediately sent red rushing through Alec's cheeks, finding the embrace  _quite_ intimate and embarrassed to be caught in it before their present company. Magnus chuckled, lightly rubbing their noses together. "I'll also be seeing  _you_ in two days, Mr. Lightwood. Try not to worry too much while I'm gone?"

The way Magnus's lips captured his own melted Alec's every anxiety, his fingers impulsively clinging to the fabric of Magnus's jacket and ruing the world for cutting this moment short. "Impossible," he breathed as they eventually begrudgingly parted. He gazed deep into Magnus's gleaming eyes, and despite himself the corners of his lips curled skyward. "But I'll try."

"That's all I can ask for."

With a final chuckle, Magnus turned out of Alec's arms and flicked his hands before him. A whirl of pale, yellow-orange light ripped through the space before them, bringing with it a whipping wind. "You two ready?" he asked the twins, yelling over the portal's roar.

"Ready!" they declared, each of them taking one of Magnus's hands into one of their own. With their others, they waved first to Madzie and Alec, then finally to Clive, spending the most time on their brother. "Bye-bye!!!"

The glow they brought to Clive's face was the most genuine Alec had seem him wear to date. If nothing else, Alec felt he could trust in Clive's care for his siblings, one just as deep and passionate as Cyd's, Vanessa's... even Malina's, perhaps, in her own way. Alec was still contemplating this, with particular mind for the Blight still occupying the Institute's cells, when the portal at last died away, leaving only Clive, Madzie, and himself still standing in the loft.

Clive was the first to break the silence which followed, looking Alec over briefly. "You should get ready for work. I'll clean all this up," he offered with a gesture to the plate of recently-devoured pancakes.

Alec accepted the offer with a half-smile and nod, by now anxious to get to the Institute. He was already running a bit late, and he didn't want Liandra getting any funny ideas in his absence.

Only after Alec retreated back into the master bedroom did Clive turn to Madzie, a gentleness coming over his whole disposition. "Madzie... I think I heard you're a big fan of MiMi-Chan, is that right?"

Madzie's face lit up at the mention of the world-famous idol. "Yes!!!" she squealed, bouncing up and down. "Papa got me all of MiMi-Chan's albums! And! And!" She turned her head, her little hands feeling around for one of the clips towards the top of her braids to point it out to him. "Look! It matches one of the clips MiMi-Chan wears!"

Clive allowed himself a light laugh, marveling at the young girl's fervor. "So it does!" A stillness followed the brief joy, his hand reaching out to hold Madzie's shoulder. He lowered his voice to a whisper, a hand cupped around his mouth. "Don't tell your Daddy, but... I heard a rumor she might be paying a visit sometime soon!"

Her jaw dropped, and her eyes went wide. "MiMi-Chan? Visiting  _me_?!"

"Mm-hm!" he replied. He wavered, struggling to keep something from bubbling over and spilling into his voice - he was only mostly successful, his words faltering here and there as he spoke. "When... When she does... she's going to need a friend. Can you do that for me, Madzie? Can you be MiMi-Chan's friend?"

The sheer excitement and pride exploding from her wide grin felt like shards of glass sinking through his chest. He thanked the powers that be that Madzie didn't seem to notice.

"Madzie will be the best friend MiMi-Chan ever had!"


	16. The Way

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0wfu3tOrtQ&t=0s&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU&index=16)\--]

" _Cette merde_!"

Jace jumped at the abrupt  _SLAM!_ of Mar's foot against the junked minivan's engine. It remained true enough that without his "normal" feet he lacked the dexterity required to walk, but it apparently hadn't at all affected his lower body strength.

"You know kicking it won't magically fix it, right?" Izzy growled through the window. Although everyone else decided to wait outside until Mar and Daraiya got the van running, she hadn't slept very well the previous night and was plenty fine taking full advantage of their morning's mechanically-imposed delay.

Clary sighed, shifting her stance as they continued watching Daraiya struggle with the ignition. "I still can't believe we're doing this," she grumbled under her breath to Jace. "Stealing a car, I mean. It's  _illegal_."

"It's a junkyard, Clary," Jace shrugged. "I seriously doubt anyone's going to miss this death bucket. Although," he began, raising his voice over the engine's stubborn sputtering and Mar's disgruntled kicking, "that's  _probably_ why the damn thing won't start!"

"Shut it, Angel Boy!" Daraiya snapped from the driver's seat. "We're only here because the three of you couldn't  _possibly_ stomach the idea of borrowing something from the dealership!"

"You mean _stealing_!" Clary shot back indignantly. She turned to Jace for backup, but he was looking at Vanessa, who was using her support of Mar as an excuse to avoid all eye contact with Jace and Clary. She'd been doing it all morning, and it was frankly starting to bother Clary. Giving Jace a small nudge, she whispered lowly to him, "Hey, what's going on with you two? Did something happen last night?"

The look he gave her was a bit sharper than perhaps Clary had anticipated, but she at least got the sense it wasn't aimed at her. After a moment's contentious thought, he appeared to finally settle upon how to respond. Unfortunately, he never got the chance, a Portal suddenly tearing open in the space just behind them. The wind whipped their hair before their eyes, the sound of its spiraling force plenty enough to overpower the sputtering engine - much less any conversation Jace and Clary might have hoped to conduct.

At the very least, the interruption inspired Daraiya to stop trying to get the minivan to start, and Mar to stop kicking it. The later twisted awkwardly in Vanessa's arms to raise a brow as Magnus stepped through the Portal. "Ah, look who finally decided to make his  _entrée spectaculaire, mes soeurs_!" he called over the Portal's roar.

"My deepest apologies," Magnus insincerely replied with a shrug of his shoulders, the Portal collapsing behind him. As the wind died down once more, his spiked hair fell into place, as though the whole thing had been instrumental in arranging it in the first place, and his various glittering necklaces, bracelets, and adornments collapsed against the shimmering silk of his ensemble. "Had a bit of a delay this morning." In further explanation of this, he gestured towards his feet with a nod of his head and sweep of his ringed hands.

Everyone's gazes followed suit, and then widened at the two pairs of wide and staring eyes peering timidly out from behind Magnus's legs.

"J... Jimmy? Naia?" Vanessa gasped, clearly torn between running to scoop them up into her arms and staying put at her brother's side.

Luckily, the twins made the decision easy for her, suddenly breaking free from Magnus to cross the distance between them in record time. "Nessa! Mar" they cried exuberantly, throwing their arms around them as best they could.

Daraiya threw open the door, greeting the twins with a wide grin. "Come to bid your big brother and sisters ' _au revoir_ '?"

"Of course not!" Jimmy exclaimed brightly, hurrying over to give Daraiya a hug. Naia soon followed suit, further explaining as she did, "We're going with you!"

"Oh?" Daraiya practically purred, her eyes slowly lifting to deliver the coldest stare she could muster directly at Magnus.

"Yes," Magnus quickly replied. "And I as well. They decided to go through with the parabatai ritual, but _insisted_ they do so at the Pine Brook Institute."

"It's not much of an 'Institute' anymore," Mar dryly remarked, but soon shrugged his shoulders. "Nonetheless, I suppose it makes sense. It's a deeply personal event for us Ironflames."

Izzy, by now hanging partway out of the back seat's window, rose a brow at him. "I'm pretty sure it's deeply personal for  _everyone_ who goes through it."

For a moment, it seemed Mar might refute the notion, but ultimately offered little more than another shrug and a resigned, "I suppose so." Next, he smirked at Magnus, nodding his head towards the van's engine. "Well, now that you're here, I don't suppose you'd mind offering a hand, _mon fléau_?"

Magnus shot him a sharp glare, one Mar no doubt expected. "I might be more inclined to offer my services -  _free of charge_ , no less! - if you stopped calling me that. Furthermore..." Turning to address the group in general, he exasperatedly threw up his hands and pointed out, "I'm making you all a  _Portal_ , aren't I? What reason would you possibly have for regenerating and stealing some wrecked van?"

"Pine Brook Institute is guarded by Mother's special wards," Daraiya grumbled, trying the ignition once more - unsurprisingly, it barely coaxed an irritable sputter out of the engine. Collapsing back against her seat in defeat, she explained, as she had to the Shadowhunters, "We can't Portal within a 10-mile radius of the Institute - we'll have to travel the rest of the journey by other, Mundane means." Fixing Jace and Clary with a wicked grin, she concluded, "It's how Mother makes sure we don't receive any unwelcome guests."

To that, Jace rose an unamused brow, his arms tightening across his chest. "Me? Unwelcome? If all the hot gossip is to be believed, I'm pretty sure I fall solidly in the 'welcome' category." The remark came off far sharper and more pointed than his usual flighty sarcasm, enough so that it made Izzy shoot a questioning look at Clary, who in turn glanced towards Vanessa, who somehow found a way to shy into herself even more than she'd been all morning.

As usual, Magnus didn't have much patience for the surrounding mortals' interpersonal gripes, and so wove off whatever was going on with a glittering hand. "In any case, you're sorely mistaken if you think a car can survive a Portal, much less  _that_ shamble of gears and sheet metal." Turning on a heel, he gestured for everyone to get out of the car and follow him, precariously picking his way through various articles of discarded junk towards a slightly larger clearing. "Come on, come on. I'll just Portal us as close as I can, and we'll have to take the remaining distance by foot."

Mar, stumbling as best he could in partnership with Vanessa's awkward assistance, appeared less than pleased about the prospect. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were doing this to punish us for our conversation the other evening,  _mon fléau_."

Izzy caught the slightest twitch of Magnus's brow as he glared over his shoulder at Mar. "And what makes you so confident I'm  _not_?"

The irritation was enough to bring a sly smile across Mar's charming features as he purred in reply. "I can't imagine someone as exquisite as  _you_  willingly subjecting themselves to hiking, even out of spite."

"Don't test it," Magnus grumbled. "I've become quite bitter in my old age." As the last of the group finished crossing over the low ridge into the clearing, Magnus rose his fingers before him, summoning forth the magic still thrumming through his veins from his arrival. Energy began to spark between them, forming tiny, fleeting bridges between his fingertips, and he glanced over his shoulder to address the group. "We'll be going through all at once, everyone holding hands, as a single group. Seeing as the rest of us will be quite literally flying blind, I think we're well within reason keeping any of you Ironflames from trying to separate us."

It hadn't been directed at her, not  _really_ , but Vanessa nonetheless uttered a small, guilty squeak in reply. Mar and Daraiya, to whom it  _had_ been directed, hardly shrugged and offered an unconcerned, " _Comme tu veux_." Jimmy and Naia didn't appear to have any idea what Magnus was talking about.

Sighing, Magnus turned back to his hands, then suddenly thrust them forward, in turn throwing a spiral of magic out upon the air before him. Immediately, it exploded into a whirling Portal much larger than the one he and the twins had arrived through, enough so that the group could all step through side-by-side. His work done, he moved his hands to his sides, expectantly. "...Well? Come along, then! You haven't got all century, you know."

Jimmy and Naia broke free of their siblings, each grabbing one of Magnus's hands - Jimmy to his left and Naia to his right. Jimmy looked over his shoulder to eagerly offer his hand to Jace - and how could Jace reject a face like that? Vanessa looked like she wanted to take Jace's other side, but Daraiya swiftly impeded her, marching intently forward before Vanessa could budge. Meanwhile, Clary had picked up Naia's hand with a smile, Izzy close on her heels - and grabbing Vanessa's hand along the way. Mar, impeded as he remained, was still quite woefully bound to Vanessa's side.

It wasn't the happiest arrangement, but it'd do. Jace leaned over to address Magnus, his gaze involuntarily gravitating towards Clary instead - and, beyond her, Vanessa. Their gazes met for the briefest of moments, bringing Jace to tense and clench his teeth. Intently looking back at Magnus, he nodded, trying to push from his mind the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings he'd been enduring ever since Vanessa's disturbing confession. "Alright, Magnus, we're ready."

Magnus blinked, looking at Jace, then back-and-forth in survey of the others. "What're you all looking at  _me_ for? Go on, then!" he fussed.

Daraiya rolled her eyes, then abruptly marched forward, yanking an unprepared Jace after her. "Keep hold of yourselves,  _petits chérubins_ ," she snickered over her shoulder. Then, just before stepping through the Portal's warped sheen, she flashed them all a wicked grin and replied, "Once you step through the looking glass... there's no turning back."

* * *

As if travel by Portal weren't disorienting enough, the hodgepodge group stumbled out into a flurry of towering trees, rampant brush, and fallen leaves. The air's sharp chill cut through their clothes, far more so than back in New York - clearly, they'd gained plenty enough altitude to outweigh their relatively southbound trajectory. Even this late in the fall, there were enough evergreens in the area such that the canopy obscured the sun's true location. As the Portal collapsed behind them and their hands broke free of each other, Magnus and the Shadowhunters turned about, squinted eyes grasping what details they could to try and piece together some sense of direction. Ultimately, however, it took Vanessa's gentle tugging of Magnus's silk shirt to get anyone to realize the Ironflames had already started walking off, Daraiya's arms almost possessively holding Mar against her.

"Um," she squeaked softly, still not daring to so much as lift her guilty gaze from the ground, "the Institute... it's that way." She nodded her head after her siblings, but nonetheless remained quiet and still, apparently unwilling to leave them unattended in the directionless forest.

"Ah," Magnus replied, eying Vanessa. To be frank, he still didn't quite know what to think of her, given all she'd put Alec through. Alec appeared to have moved on well enough, but Magnus was admittedly a bit more begrudging when it came to inflicting harm upon his loved ones. "Well, I suppose we'd best be off, then," he replied, awkwardly maneuvering his way around Vanessa to follow the others. "I'm not exactly dressed for camping, and would prefer we didn't find ourselves stranded out here all on our lonesome."

It was impossible to tell how long they carried on after that, the twins carefully leading the way through the twisting woods slowly enough that Daraiya could follow despite her hipside burden. Vanessa, skirt held up in small, delicate fingertips, picked her way through the brush after them, a bridge between her family and their guests. Jace, though eager to keep a careful eye on the Ironflames, refused to follow directly behind Vanessa. Magnus took up that station instead, mostly born of the same motivations which compelled him to take in the twins and accompany them to the Pine Brook Institute in the first place. Whatever had transgressed between Jace and Vanessa seemed to have formed a kind of invisible wall all around him - between that and the recent revelation that he'd apparently been under the impression they were actively dating, Clary simply didn't feel very welcome within his immediate vicinity, a feeling that somehow hurt despite their year of total silence.

Apparently, it showed, slender fingers slipping through to link with her own.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Clary glanced to her side, her face immediately softening at the large, dark eyes and sunkissed skin that greeted her. "Nothing really to talk about," she sighed resignedly. "Trust me. If there  _were_ , I'd already be giving you an earful."

Izzy smirked, reaching up with her free hand to tuck a loose, fire-red curl behind Clary's ear. "Damn. I really like hearing it."

Clary's brow rose. "Even when it's about lovesick anguish over my hot-as-fuck ex-boyfriend who I'd totally get back together with in a heartbeat if he'd just sort out whatever mountain of issues he's managed to bury himself in?"

To that, Izzy laughed, bumping Clary gently with her shoulder as they continued on through the trees. " _Especially_ that. It helps that your hot-as-fuck ex-boyfriend just so happens to be my brother, for whom I'm quite concerned. And anyways..." Her eyes slid back to Clary, and the quiet way they studied the bounce of her wild hair, the energy of her vibrant eyes, even the spattering of freckles across her cheeks worsened her cold-induced blush. A light somberness crept into those void-like hues, atop her bittersweet smile. "...I always knew this was a temporary thing. I genuinely want you two to work things out eventually, regardless of what I may or may not treat myself to in the meantime."

" _Izzy_!" hissed Clary through her teeth, her cheeks suddenly matching the color of her hair.

Ironically enough, Jace turned out to be the one to save her from whatever lewd remark Izzy'd been about to purr. His sudden, sharp curse drew their attentions away from each other, their brows frowning upon seeing Jace stumbling over some fallen brush.

Further ahead, the Ironflames had paused, Mar and Daraiya smirking over their shoulders at him. "What's wrong, Little Cherub?" Daraiya snickered. "Your Surefooted Rune run out already?"

Jace glared up at Daraiya, every fiber of his being wanted to snap some kind of witty retaliation, but the ache in his head was too overpowering. Everywhere he looked, the forest seemed to be reflecting an eerie and nauseating familiarity. The vibrant green of the leaves, the fiery orange of the sun's rays, even the ashen bark of the Aspen trees, complete with dark freckles. The effect was altogether dizzying, and it didn't help his disposition that he  _knew_ it had something to do with the Ironflames - not that he had the foggiest idea how any of them, Vanessa included, could possibly be related to it all.

"Back off!" Izzy threatened in his stead, hurrying to her brother's side to help him regain his balance.

Clary turned to silently question Magnus about Jace's condition, but hesitated when she noted the subtle pinch of his brow. He was certainly far better off than Jace, but still seemed to be pained, or at least burdened, by something. "Are you alright, Magnus?" she softly asked, passing Jace and Izzy to come up beside him.

He glanced at her in mild surprise, but though he'd clearly been about to reassure her he paused, reconsidering the question. In light of Jace's encumberment, perhaps his headache  _wasn't_ something so simple as altitude sickness? And yet... "I find it odd that something would affect Jace and myself, yet leave you and dear Isabelle perfectly unhindered."

At that, Izzy felt the slightest shift of her hair, as if it’d caught upon a passing branch. Were it not for the fact she wasn’t moving, and for the airy chuckling that drifted all around them, she might not have leapt to her feet, hand pulling the electrum coil from her wrist and snapping it out into a long and menacing pole-arm. “Who goes there? Show yourself!” she barked to the surrounding woods.

”It helps that the two of you were a bit _distracted_ with each other,” the chuckling voice mused, ignoring Izzy completely to instead address Magnus’s observation.

Clary and Magnus helped scour the area, Jace still leaning against a tree with his head bowed in recovery. Clary wasn’t sure what unsettled her more - that they couldn’t discern the direction the voice was coming from, or that the owner had apparently been watching them. That latter point drew her brow in realization, and she whirled to stare accusingly at the Ironflames. As she’d expected, the five of them seemed wholly unconcerned by the whole thing, Mar and Daraiya even taking pleasure in their plight. What gave it away, however, were the twins, their heads craned back with wide smiles aimed to the canopy.

Alarmed by this, Clary spun back around and looked up - suddenly finding herself inches away from a pale, grinning face framed by stiff-straight, midnight hair. “Hello, Clary.”

Clary stumbled back and shrieked. Magnus struck out to try and grab the woman’s neck, but succeeded only in disturbing the very ends of her hair as she pulled swiftly up and away from his reach. Izzy and even Jace raced to their side, Jace helping Clary back to a stand and Izzy glaring at the Ironflames. “Who was that?!”

”Just our _sœur aînée_ ,” Mar replied with an unconcerned shrug.

The eerie chuckling resounded once more, though this time from a discernible direction. They spun to face it, watching in a disturbed awe as a young woman, older than all of them except of course Magnus, expertly uncurled herself from a nearby low-hanging branch. Now in full view, it was obvious she was an Ironflame. Runes for Dexterity, Balance, and Flexibility decorating the skin above a tight corset that made Izzy burn with envy, but she was suspended from a pair of long, thin arms extending out from the corset’s back. Specifically, the midsection limbs of a contortionist demon. One leather-clad and red-heeled leg draped over the other, she held a dainty hand out to them the way a royal would accept a kiss to their rings and offered a purring smile. “My name is Psiren. What an absolute _delight_  to meet you all!”

Unsurprisingly, Psiren’s hand went wholly ignored by all of them as they turned to consult Mar and Daraiya. Still, Psiren couldn’t help but offer Izzy a final wink before pulling herself back up into the branches criss-crossing overhead, sending a shudder down the Shadowhunter’s spine.

”I presume we’re close, then?” Magnus inquired, a brow raised.

An odd sort of realization flickered across Mar and Daraiya’s faces, their gazes gravitating towards each other. Subconsciously, their fingers inched towards each other, but a moment later they pulled violently away, turning to stare further ahead. “ _Oui_ ,” Daraiya replied, nodding and pointing further through the forest. “Psiren will lead you the rest of the way.”

Despite everything, Clary couldn’t help but feel the slightest pang of concern, glancing between the two almost-twins. “You won’t be continuing on? Is something wrong?”

” _Non_ ,” they both replied in sharp unison. Then, as he moved away from Daraiya to support himself against a nearby tree, Mar muttered, his tone barely noticeably soured, “We’ll rejoin you all momentarily.”

Before Clary could press any further, Jace nudged himself on ahead, the twins and Vanessa taking it as signal to turn and continue as well. “Just leave them be, Clary,” he insisted. “They want to do a little outdoor _bonding_? Whatever. Let them.”

Clary looked to Magnus and Izzy for backup, but the both of them just shrugged. “It’s _their_  home,” Magnus replied under his breath for both the girls’ benefit - Jace was beyond earshot, and probably really didn’t care anyway. “They probably have a lot of feelings attached to this place.”

Mar and Daraiya seemed content to leave it at that, offering neither any sarcastic remark nor a single rude gesture after their departing guests. It wasn’t long before they’d been completely blocked from view by the shifting trees, and soon after that Psiren startled all of them by suddenly dropping down from where she’d been crawling like a giant spider high above. She dropped lightly at the head of the group, her heels barely so much as crunching the leaves beneath their spears, and laid a hand upon the smooth trunk of the tree beside her. “Right this way,” she purred. “It’s just through here.”

Though Vanessa and the twins followed without question, Jace remained suspicious. “What’re you talking about?” he called after them, even as he followed. “There’s nothing here but more—“ He cut off in an instant, the forest pulling away as he rounded the tree like a theater curtain to reveal a massive, stone mansion towering before him. Behind him, Magnus, Clary, and Izzy nearly bumped into him before likewise stopping at the equally sudden revelation, their eyes widening and jaws hanging ajar.

”By the Angel,” Izzy breathed, looking over the vine-trellised walls, the heavy oak doors and roof, the mosaics of dark-colored glass forming tall windows... and the scorched scars still covering them all, betraying the home’s horrific, pained memory. “What happened here?”

Magnus awkwardly stepped around, gesturing for them to follow and meet the Ironflame’s at the Institute’s intimidating entrance. “Liandra told Alexander the Clave attacked when they found out about Gemini. It seems her story may have held some truth to it after all... If she’s to be believed, the Ironflames lost most of their family and followers to the attack, including Maven Ironflame himself.”

”Their father,” Clary breathed, though she couldn’t _quite_  bring herself to feel sympathy for them, given the atrocities Maven committed. After all, it wasn’t too far away from what Valentine had done in his own experiments, and she’d never shed so much as a single tear for the cruel beast of a man.

By the time they reached the doors, someone was already pulling them open, a warm and cheerful voice greeting the four Ironflame children. “Ah, you’ve returned!” the voice - a distinctly male one - rejoiced. Arms covered to the wrists in what looked like deep maroon silk pulled Vanessa in to a tight hug, their dark hands then moving to ruffle the twins’ hair before each of them bolted eagerly past him into the Institute.

”J-Jimmy, Naia!” Vanessa called in exasperation, then quickly hurried after them.

Psiren was leaning against a low wall that lined the path up to the doors, smirking at her brother and nodding towards their four guests. “Brought you a surprise,” she knowingly snickered.

Curiously, the young man pushed the door further open to get a better view, in turn revealing himself fully. His slacks matched his shirt, the outfit altogether of a Southeast-Asian style, dark maroon with beautiful twists of golden thread decorating the collar and down the side of each leg. His skin was about halfway between milk and dark chocolate, his crop of dark hair short and held in tight waves. His features spoke of Indian descent, save for two key details: the fire-orange of his eyes, and the black patches blocked all over the slope of his neck and even spotting his cheeks, as though he’d fallen into a pile of coals and they’d gotten stuck to his skin.

Warlock marks.

”H-Hello,” Magnus replied, his stomach twisting with an anxious energy. “These are Shadowhunters from the New York Institute - Jace Herondale, Clary Fray, and Isabelle Lightwood. I myself am the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Ma—“

”Magnus,” the young man breathed, and as he did they all realized just how wide his excitement - and disbelief - had pulled his eyes. “Magnus Bane!” After just a moment’s more gawking, he hurried up to the group, hands diving for Magnus’s to take them up in an eager shake. “Oh, I’ve waited so very long to meet you, Mr. Bane! Mother has told me all sorts of stories... To think that I would be so lucky as to meet you so soon!”

”Sorry,” Isabelle jutted in, detecting Magnus’s discomfort and placing a hand upon their host’s arm. To her surprise, he felt very warm - they probably had the heat running inside? “You must be the Warlock of the Ironflames. We never caught your name... ?”

”Ah, yes! My apologies,” he quickly replied, backing away and giving them a bow. As he rose, he fixed her with a smile so warm she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, and introduced himself with a voice that somehow evoked the calming crackling of a dying campfire.

”My name is Ignis.”


	17. Come Little Children

[--[soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKlsUrfbiE0&t=0s&index=17&list=PLk6BQLseS5iayplO5hTOF5Ehexjo-93CU)\--]

Alec was still rather stressed by the time he arrived at the Institute, not that he imagined anyone could blame him. Although he trusted Clive well enough, and the boy had woken up in a competent mental state, leaving his little Madzie in  _anyone's_ care but Magnus's was always a bit of an ordeal for him. Hell, he still got mild bouts of anxiety even when they phoned in Catarina, and she was all but family to the three of them. At least he could be thankful Malina'd expressed zero interest in staying at the loft any longer than she absolutely had to. Otherwise, Alec doubted he'd have ever been able to convince himself to come in to work.

And a good thing he did, too. By the time he showed up, admittedly a good few hours later than his usual arrival, Luke was already loitering about the command center, hands shoved in his pockets and awkwardly keeping himself from looking in any one direction for too long at a time - didn't want anyone thinking he was snooping on Shadowhunter business, after all. A look of total relief washed over him the minute he turned towards the Institute's foyer and saw Alec briskly approaching, a wide smile breaking out across his face and a hand reaching out in greeting. "Hey, man. I was getting worried something might've happened." To clarify, he turned and gestured to the rest of the Institute. "I haven't seen any of the others, either. Is everything okay?"

Taking advantage of the handshake, Alec led him hurriedly in the direction of his office. "I'll catch you up. Any more trigger-happy drop-ins?"

"Nothing. Not even any new, shady restaurant-goers. I'm starting to think we might need to run some sort of promotion, or maybe one of those loyalty programs like the grocers have."

"I wasn't aware you actually  _wanted_ more Mundanes at the Jade Wolf," Alec remarked with a suspicious quirk in his brow.

Luke shrugged. "Gotta pay the bills."

As Luke slid the door shut behind them, Alec moved to check his desk. To his great relief, no one had dumped any last-minute reports or resourcing requests on him, and the phone sat in blissful, lightless silence - no messages from the Clave. It'd been a bit of a gamble, but it looked like Liandra did indeed share his interest in keeping the Clave out of all this Ironflame business. For now, at least. Turning back around to face Luke, he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against his desk's edge. "So, what are the Mundanes making of the murder?"

"Standard John Doe." He picked one of the office's leather armchairs and settled himself into it, though he probably wasn't staying long anyway. Nonetheless, he was on his feet for most of the day, and the Institute's furniture was  _damn_ nice, so he welcomed the comfort as brief as it was. "No leads on the killer, either."

Alec gave a concerned incline of his head. "And you all are off the hook?"

The notion made Luke laugh, despite his meager efforts not to. "Mundane policework doesn't really work that way, Alec, but for the most part we're fine. They'll keep a note on file in case they find any new cause to suspect one of us, but it's highly unlikely they will. None of us touched the body, so no one's DNA got on him or vice-versa, and none of the bullets they found have our fingerprints or could possibly be traced back to the Jade Wolf. Given all of that, they have no reason to question my testimony, nor to question any of the rest of the pack."

"But the bullets  _can_ be traced... ?"

Luke sank somewhat wearily in his chair. "Yeah. I truly believe though that Garozumi is just having the Mundanes clean up his mess - you don't get to be a yakuza boss without being damn smart and knowing how to cover your trail. Doubly so if your organization just so happens to be the management company for an international pop star."

Admittedly, this was one of those times where Alec would have preferred to be a bit more aware of the Mundane way of doing things. It was one of the surprisingly more valuable aspects Clary brought to the table on her missions - and Simon, whenever he could be convinced Jace wouldn't be even remotely involved. "I don't see how using traceable bullets would be a smart way to cover your trail."

"Well," Luke continued after a moment's consideration, "think of it like you were tracking a string of demon attacks. You'd be more suspicious if there were no traces at the scenes versus finding, say, a giant glob if ichor at every one. So, Garozumi gives the cops a string of bread crumbs that lead them to... say, a vampire—"

"—a string of bullet shells, you mean?"

Luke blinked at Alec a moment, and ultimately decided to accept the correction rather than tell a full-grown man a nursery story. "Right. The cops follow the lead to a vampire that stages his death - a  _Mundane_ death, like shooting himself or something, that wouldn't actually kill him. Makes it look like he opted for suicide over going to jail, falls into the river afterwards. Now the cops are convinced they found the killer but can't recover the body, and the vampire - and the rest of  _JSTAR_ \- walks off scot-free."

"Huh," Alec remarked, a brow raised. "Fascinating."

Luke shrugged. "All of that to say I don't think we have to worry about any of this coming back to the pack. Still, I'll have my buddies at the station keep an eye on things and let us know if the water's getting hot again."

"Your buddies? You mean Mundanes?" Alec asked with a scowl.

"My co-workers, yeah. I'm involved, remember? They won't let me near the case, regardless of rank."

"Fair enough," Alec sighed, though he couldn't help but remain just a  _little_ worried.

Apparently, Luke caught on to how high strung he was, offering a sympathetic furrow of his brow. "Hey. What's up, man? Something going on with Magnus? Jace?"

"They went with Izzy and Clary to investigate an Institute in Colorado. Supposedly, it's where the twins came from, as well as a bunch of other... odd Shadowhunters," Alec concluded, not really wanting to get into the full details of what "Blights" were.

"So? Simple recon mission, right?" Luke snickered at him. "Don't tell me you're going to turn into one of those overprotective house-husbands that worries every time their spouse leaves the state?"

"What?" Alec started, blinking as a subtle flush infected his cheeks. "It's not a 'simple recon mission.' This particular Institute could turn out to be a real threat. And... And, we're not... !"  Unable to finish the thought, Alec simply gestured awkwardly between himself and the imaginary presence of his supposed "spouse."

The lightness of it all was warmly welcomed. "Right, of course," Luke laughed. "Not yet, maybe. I suppose it makes sense, given how you two seem to be doing everything backwards... Nearly dying,  _then_ having a kid... You two need to buy a house first,  _then_ you can—"

"Alright, meeting adjourned," Alec interrupted with a very flustered glare. "Thanks for the updates. You can head back to the pack now."

Luke's brow rose in disbelief. "That's it? You called me all the way out here just for a status update?"

Alec hesitated a moment before answering. He knew there was no lying to Luke - at best, the man would let him save face and just play along. It was one of the werewolf's many qualities that made him sometimes more like his father than his  _actual_ father. Perhaps more out of respect for that unique relationship than anything else, Alec turned to address him, his features pinched with worry. "I... was going to ask you to follow JSTAR up to Vermont. I've got a funny feeling about them, like they're connected to everything somehow. But..." He sighed and leaned back against his desk. "If you truly believe Garozumi won't be any trouble anymore, then it's probably best we heed their warnings and leave them be. If your scout gets caught..."

"We'll keep an eye on them from here," Luke offered. "I'll have Maia monitor MiMi-Chan's tweeter, or whatever it's called, and we'll leave the news on one of the Jade Wolf's TVs. Would that help put your mind at ease?"

A genuine albeit subdued half-smile turned Alec's lips. "Thanks, Luke. I'll see you around."

"Likewise," Luke replied, getting up and patting a strong hand upon Alec's shoulder. "Try and relax a bit, you hear me? It won't help anyone for you to exhaust yourself worrying about things without any intel you can actually act upon."

He nodded and waved as Luke made his departure. "Sure thing, Luke."

It was the one lie he couldn't help but tell. Without any solid backing to it, how could he possibly give voice to his nearly-suffocating sense of foreboding, closing in on him like the dark clouds of an impending storm?

* * *

"P-Please, this way! You all must be starving from your long journey!"

The group of New Yorkers followed Ignis through the mansion, their curious gazes taking in every detail of every room they passed in half-caution, half-awe. The place was absolutely exquisite, much more like a luxurious palace than any Institute they'd ever been to. More a home than a tactical base. Of course, perhaps that made sense, given what little they knew of the Pine Brook Institute. Despite being a fully-fledged Institute originally established by the Clave, it had in recent years come to be primarily populated by a single family. That in and of itself wasn't so strange, except for just how numerous that family had once been - so much so that it wasn't too hard to imagine a time where the Institute simply hadn't any  _room_ for unrelated locals, temporary stations, or visiting dignitaries.

Such visions were a stark contrast from the desolate state that had befallen the Institute. Though a considerable amount of furnishings had either survived the attack and eventual burning or been replaced altogether, a deep and sorrowful emptiness echoed through the halls, the ghost of a long-lost presence. There was a certain chill the candelabras and sconces could not banish, an unrelenting harshness the intricate tapestries and plush rugs could not soothe. Pictures framed upon the walls or set atop console tables and bookshelves stared out at the guests, some charred around the edges or still missing shards of glass, offering vistas into memories that seemed too distant to have possibly occurred here. Occasionally, a familiar face would drift across their sights - Psiren pushing Vanessa in a swing, a young girl cradling a silver-haired infant who could only be Clive, a trio of brothers standing proudly at attention before the Institute. Two of them were easily identified by their unique traits as Ignis and Cyd. As for the third...

"Caine," Ignis replied, having realized his guests had paused and were staring curiously through the study's threshold. He turned and stepped softly back to their side, head bowed in memory - he didn't need to see for himself to know their attentions had been captured by the large portrait mounted above the fireplace. "I imagine our brothers and sisters saw the three of us as the most 'put together' of the family. We were born and grew up before the Ironflame family had gotten very big, after all."

"He was the first, right?" Izzy asked. It took visible effort, but she managed to turn from the portrait to regard Ignis, who simply nodded in reply.

Though he's caught the subtle motion in his peripheral, Jace's gaze was fixated upon the long, leathery wings arching up and out from Caine's back, all but trapping his brothers in a kind of ominous embrace. "Asmodei wings. Guess your dad figured he may as well go big for the first impression. It's a bit theatrical, though."

Ignis chuckled in agreement, his manner so light and cheery it bordered on disturbing his companions. If he'd caught that Jace was attempting some kind of mild slight at his family, he certainly didn't show it - despite himself, Magnus couldn't help but distantly muse over whether this fact irritated Jace, who employed the effectiveness of his snark just as often as he lifted a Seraph blade. "You are likely right, my friend!" Ignis replied before turning and continuing down the hall. "We were born out of Father's desperation against the demons. The very core of it all was the idea that we would collectively wield the demons' own natures against them. It was perhaps a bold declaration of this idea that Father expanded it to include their names - their figureheads, idols, history - in the very first Blight who would come to define and represent us as a whole."

"Ballsy move," Jace remarked, turning from the portrait with a barely-suppressed shudder. Even as he left it behind, he couldn't shake the tingling feeling like the those three figures were still watching him, hiding in the shadows of the hall's dense memories, waiting to strike the very moment he let down his guard.

And he wasn't the only one to feel that way, either. Clary stared worriedly after him, wanting to at once comfort and confide in him but unable to cross the invisible chasm. Magnus did what he could to reassure her, coming up beside her and laying a hand upon her shoulder. It brought her to look up at him and study his face. Somehow, seeing someone as ancient and far more experienced as him betray subtle signs of discomfort came as a begrudging solace. Although she imagined a potential threat which could disturb him must be very great, it at the very least told her she was right to worry, that her feelings were far from unfounded. For what little it was worth? She wasn't crazy.

Slowly, the sound of clinking dishes rose from further down the hall, growing louder as they continued. A large threshold came into view, about twice the size of a standard doorway, beside which Ignis turned to face the group and usher them welcomingly into the room beyond. "The dining room," he replied pleasantly. "Please, please! Take any seat you like! The rest of my brothers and sisters will be joining us shortly."

Unsurprisingly, the dining room was just as luxurious as the rest of the mansion. Jeweled weaponry, intricate tapestries, and ornate sculptures from across the world decorated one wall, the opposite one primarily dominated by a pair of tall windows framed in heavy, crimson velvet. One of the shorter walls - the side they'd entered from - had a dark rosewood china hutch centered upon it, a pair of ornamental spears stationed to either side like sentries. Its doors were thrown open, Psiren expertly swinging from the ceiling's crossbeams to retrieve its delicate contents and set them daintily upon the massive dining table. Apparently, she'd done this millions of times, as despite her speed she hadn't the slightest doubt that every piece would land right where it belonged, all of it perfectly unharmed by the swift process.

Psiren's occupation of the entire space above the table obscured most of the final wall, but as the group moved towards various chairs around the table they soon got a plenty clear view of the oil portrait looming over the room. It featured a stony-faced couple, proudly staring out from their golden frame like a king and queen observing their empire. The man was pale and freckled, with bold blue eyes and clean-cut, short orange hair. A bristling beard decorated the full of his square chin, surrounding lips pressed so thin the artist had hardly drawn any lips at all. A round-faced woman stood at his side, a dainty hand draped from the crook of his elbow, her eyes like a pair of dark almonds set into subtly yellowed skin. Long, inky black hair fell around her rounded face, as heavy as the room's curtains, and at times it looked as though the slightest smile had  _just_ slipped away from her ruby-red lips.

Despite never having seen this woman before, Jace identified her by one final detail captured in the painting: a row of thin, silvery spines just barely poking through her otherwise overbearing blanket of black hair. His body tensed, trying his best to suppress the sickening shudder rippling through him, and turned a firm glare upon Ignis. "That woman's a Warlock," he asserted without preamble, nodding his head towards the portrait. "Your mother, I presume? Annai Shard?"

Ignis blinked in surprise. "Y-Yes," he replied. Slowly, his eyes shifted curiously over to Magnus, who'd taken to actively avoiding eye contact with anyone as he settled himself into a chair at the table. "You know her... ?" Ignis cautiously asked, looking back at Jace.

"Vanessa told me her name," came Jace's pointed response. As he'd suspected, it encouraged Ignis to purse his lips, an awkward discomfort coming over him as he quickly looked away from Jace.

Though she lacked the foggiest idea what was going on between them, Clary felt quite determined to distill the tension. "You all take your meals together?" she asked, trying to steer the conversation back to something a bit lighter - and, hopefully, useful. They were, after all, here to gather as much information as they could about the Pine Brook Institute. May as well start with a survey of their everyday routines.

If nothing else, the question certainly relaxed Ignis, a gentle smile returning to his lips. "Only dinners," he explained. "Mother says it helps remind us of the importance and unshakable solidarity of family."

The remark apparently inspired Magnus to rejoin the group, suddenly looking up and regarding Ignis directly. "Annai will be joining us, then?"

"Of course!" he replied with a beaming smile. "She is, after all, the warden of this house. How could she not be here to welcome her guests?"

"I could think of a few reasons," Magnus murmured under his breath, leaning away as Psiren reached down to deposit a set of plates and cutlery upon the table before him.

Settling into a chair across from Magnus, Ignis parted his lips to say something, but the cacophony of haphazard footsteps running down the nearby hall interrupted him. Soon enough, the twins breached the threshold they'd all entered through, bee-lining straight for Magnus and all but toppling Clary over in their scramble for the chairs at either side of him. "Magnus! Magnus!" they cried as they piled into their seats, hands gripping the chairs, the tablecloth, even Magnus to aid their struggles. "We prepared one of the rooms! It's the one next to ours! You'll take that one, right? Please?!"

"Leave the old man alone," Psiren scolded, dropping from the ceiling and twisting mid-air to expertly land at the far end of the table. She gestured to the group with a wave of her hand. "They haven't seen the rest of the house, let alone the guest rooms. At least let them eat before bombarding them."

"But..." Jimmy and Naia dejectedly replied, gazing around at the Shadowhunters.

"She's right," Ignis gently added in. "There will be plenty of time after dinner for us to sort out everyone's accommodations. For now, we should simply do what we can to put them at ease and help them feel at home, right?"

They didn't seem altogether convinced. Nonetheless, they let go of Magnus and sat properly in their chairs, hands folded in their laps in an attempt to patiently contain themselves. "Alright, Iggy..."

"Oh, don't look so glum,  _mes petits_!" Mar's light and aloof voice took the room by surprise, each one of them receiving his entrance with various degrees of confusion, wariness, or both.

Daraiya was soon to follow, but though she accompanied her brother there was a certain distance between them, one Magnus and the Shadowhunters were somewhat relieved albeit intrigued to note. "By the smell of things, Sano's nearly done preparing dinner," she observed as she approached Naia, smirking and playfully plucking at the young girl's braided pigtail. Looking up to lazily regard everyone else, she more adamantly advised, " _Mère_ will likely be arriving soon. We'll all want to be seated by then." Even as she spoke, she pulled out the chair beside Naia and settled herself into it, barely so much as acknowledging Mar's presence beside her.

Izzy, Clary, and Jace exchanged wary looks. "It's just dinner," Jace ultimately shrugged. "It can't be worse than anything _you've_ ever cooked for us."

"Hey!" Izzy protested with a sharp glare.

"And besides," he quickly continued, then nodded over at Magnus. "If it's poisoned or something, we've got Magnus here to take care of us."

"It's not poisoned," a familiarly gentle voice resounded from behind him. They all turned to see Vanessa easing herself through a door - presumably one that led to the kitchen - with a heavy dish of fresh, steaming food grasped between cloth-covered hands.

"Forgive me if I don't outright believe you on that one," Jace grumbled, eying her as she moved delicately towards the table.

One of Psiren's contortionist arms reached out through a slit in her corset, grabbed an iron trivet from the middle of the table, and placed it back down closer to Vanessa, allowing her to relieve herself of her scrumptious-smelling burden. "It... would be unwise for us to do such a thing," Vanessa guiltily whispered, lifting the dish's cover to reveal an assortment of spiced vegetables baked to perfection. "With Liandra stationed at your Institute and Cyd being held in your cells, it is important we foster a strong alliance with you all, in the hopes you will support us against the wrath of the Clave."

Not entirely satisfied with the answer, Jace glanced back at Clary and Izzy, both of whom could only shrug and offer half-smiles. Neither of them needed to remind him they'd come here with their own aims, too, and so a dinner served by half-demonic hosts looked like it'd just have to be one of the risks they took on in pursuit of those aims. Leaning over to check Magnus, he was only marginally surprised to find the Warlock already freeing his cloth napkin from its ring and tucking its corner into his collar. He emitted a sigh and rolled his eyes in clear communication he didn't like the idea, but acquiesced, sliding into the chair closest the kitchen door Vanessa was retreating back through to retrieve more food.

It left one chair left between him and Jimmy. Clary's eyes flickered quickly at Izzy - finding her already making her way around towards the other end of the table, she slid into the seat, offering Izzy a small, grateful smile as soon as she was able to catch the other girl's gaze.

Izzy smiled knowingly, moving to the chair beside Ignis and across from Naia. As much as the Blights unnerved her, she found herself insatiably curious about Ignis, and anyway didn't want to abandon Magnus in a sea of Ironflames. Besides, Mar was already eying the seat beside hers and across from Daraiya, meaning Psiren, Vanessa, and this "Sano" whom Daraiya'd mentioned would all end up at the other end of this side of the table. Between those options, Izzy was betting she'd get more useful information out of chatting up Ignis and his incestuous siblings than any group that involved the traumatized-seeming and guilt-ridden Vanessa.

Ignis noticed Izzy's approach, and was suddenly on his feet and pulling out the chair for her. "Oh, here! Please, allow me," he offered, his smile broad and genuine as Izzy met his eyes and accepted his assistance.

"Thank you," she replied politely, slipping into place and allowing Ignis to slide her in to the table. "You know, of all your siblings, I think you're by far my favorite. You're certainly the most courteous," she added with a pointed glare across the table at Mar and Daraiya.

Daraiya barely rose her eyebrow, Mar meanwhile releasing an amused scoff as he lazily made his way around the table to his chair. Through the darkness of his skin, Izzy could see a soft flush coloring Ignis's cheeks, and to her intrigue found the crevices between the scab-like plates decorating his neck taking on a faint, fire-orange glow. "Mother made sure to include proper etiquette alongside my studies of the magical arts," he quickly replied, apparently feeling as though his manners (or, perhaps more rightly, Izzy's assertion he was "better" than his siblings in some way) were something he needed to excuse.

"You're completely home-schooled?" Magnus interjected, catching the half-muttered admission. Noticing another bout of self-consciousness coming over Ignis, he quickly clarified, "What I mean to say is... It's wonderful you've never had to self-study. That sort of thing can get quite messy."

"Oh. Yes." Ignis looked visibly quite relieved, and then excited, subconsciously starting to lean forward. "Did you teach yourself? That is most impressive, Mr. Bane!"

"I had a few friends help me along the way," Magnus chuckled with a dismissive wave. "And, please. Just 'Magnus' is quite fine."

"R... Right. Of course."

Through all of this, Jace and Clary had continued quietly eying the swinging door to the kitchen, watching as Vanessa continued bringing out dish after dish of freshly prepared food: diced potatoes, a salad, a couple baskets of dinner rolls kept warm by gently-wrapped linens. As she set these latter items down upon the table, another young woman emerged, carrying a huge platter dominated by some kind of meat roast. "Venison," Jace guessed in a soft whisper to Clary, but to be honest neither of them were particularly interested in the food the young woman was carefully setting down at the head of the table.

Rather, it was taking their every effort to not stare at the torso the dish partly obscured. Her build was a bit broader and stockier than her siblings, but that alone wasn't nearly enough to explain the swells held beneath the silk wrap of her blouse. Clary counted three rows - given none of them had any discernable central bulges, she took that to mean the woman had six breasts in total, and her own back began to hurt just at the thought of what that kind of burden must be like.

Despite their efforts, it seemed the woman noticed their curious looks - or anticipated them, and felt it best to get it addressed and out of the way quickly. "Mother and Father required assistance nursing," she replied without even looking their way. Instead, she'd caught Psiren's eye and wove the other girl over. Backing up, she gave Psiren space to pick up two sets of carving utensils, and as her sister made quick work of the roast she continued, "After Mar and Daraiya's Ascension, it became clear the generations would need to be larger to adequately counter the operation's mortality rate. A year later, they gave my sister and I additional breasts to help with the load, but she didn't survive the procedure. Based on that round of operations, Father's medical staff determined to set the minimum age requirement to five - my age - and ceased performing operations on any younger Ironflames." She scoffed through a bitter half-smile. "He wasn't too pleased about that, but he was satisfied with my Ascension, at least. My demonic breasts were able to begin nourishing his additional offspring just three years later."

There was enough in all she'd said to put Jace, Clary, and Izzy in an unsettled quiet. Clary could sense Jace's tongue on the verge of a less-than-tasteful quip, however, and so she asked before he could put voice to whatever thought he'd formed, "What was her name?"

Even before she answered, Magnus shuddered, once more recalling his long-ago conversation with Annai.  _We wait until their fifth birthday to name them._

The woman - Sano, they'd come to deduce - was a bit more direct in her answer than her mother had been. "We're only named after we Ascend. The others die nameless."

"These morbid recollections  _hardly_ make for pleasant dinner conversation."

The moment the voice resounded through the room, every member of the Ironflame family was suddenly standing, their attentions turned toward the room's hall entrance. Magnus and the Shadowhunters followed suit a moment later, raising to their feet and looking over to find a young maiden, the same one from the massive portrait hanging from the wall - at last, the Warlock Annai Shard herself, Mother to the Ironflame children. Her void-like stare gleamed first upon Jace, then drifted more reservedly towards Magnus. Daraiya's proximity to him continued pulling her attention around the table, suddenly sharpening into a cold stare by the time it landed upon Mar.

"Psiren," she suddenly spoke, snapping her fingers and gesturing between Psiren and Mar. "Switch places with him."

Although the command confused their guests, none of the Ironflames appeared surprised by it, Psiren and Mar quickly obeying their Mother despite a rather obvious resentment that had taken place upon Mar's visage. As her children adjusted their positions, Annai's expression turned pleasant once more, cheerily addressing her guests as she moved to the head of the table, her manner wholly dismissive of the matter entirely. "It is such a pleasure to welcome you all to our home," she replied, her voice ringing with an almost singsong quality that distantly reminded Clary of the Fair Folk. "I have been so looking forward to meeting you all, though I must profess I'd hoped it'd be under more amicable pretenses."

Clary felt Jace tense beside her, his hands tightening into fists. In a subtle attempt at soothing him, she moved her fingers to lightly touch his wrist, meanwhile addressing Annai as pleasantly as she could muster. "We have a lot of questions, as I'm sure you could imagine," she replied, cutting straight to the point. As Annai's eyes focused on her, she felt a chill shoot down her spine, but she didn't let it deter her. "Perhaps if you answered them, we could build towards a working relationship more in line with your expectations?"

Annai held her gaze for a long while, lingering for a moment beside her chair before a smile at last slid across her painted lips. "Yes," she finally purred, nodding to her children to signal her permission to take their seats. They all settled into their chairs more or less at once, Annai making no effort to hide the return of her intrigue to Jace's stiff and precarious resolve. "I would very much like that." Turning slowly to the rest of the table, she lifted her hands in offering, and addressed the group at large.

"We welcome our esteemed guests to the Pine Brook Institute. Shall we begin?"

* * *

Mitomi sighed, gazing down at the boy still nestled up and fast asleep in his crib. She stretched out with a delicate finger, fondly moving one of his silvery curls aside so she could marvel at the intricate, subtle pattern of leaves poking out from his hairline. Certainly, every single one of her siblings were simply fascinating, inspiring awe in sometimes the most terrifying of ways, but none of them were quite so beautiful as Clive.

The sudden fly of a throwing star past her head and subsequent sink into the crib's headboard jolted her out of her reverie. She whirled, a scowl hard set upon her face. " _Malina_!" she hissed through her teeth, keeping her voice low to avoid waking Clive - how the throwing star hadn't already done just that was beyond her.

Her sister rolled her eyes, wandering towards her with all the attitude of a moody, rebellious pre-teen. Apparently, she'd recently convinced Andri to shave her hair again, leaving behind but a single longer piece that flopped to one side of her head - and even that barely reached her cheekbone. It covered her right eye, baring the slitted yellow of her right eye and accompanying upside-down Voyance rune just above it  for all to see. Between that and her wardrobe of tank-tops and cargo pants, it successfully communicated the shortness of her fuse and volatility of her snap, a vital part of letting absolutely  _everyone_ know she wasn't to be messed with just because her Ascension appeared relatively mild beside her siblings'. "We're  _supposed_ to be training right now. I'm not gonna waste precious time just because Arnell went and sludged the fucking floor again."

Mitomi gawked at her. In almost perfect contrast to her sister, she could barely even stomach the thought of using Raid for pest control, much less fathom why she would ever want anyone to be afraid of her. Admittedly, while her kindness was well-received by the Institute's Shadowhunter residents, her own family was less than accommodating. As their father constantly reminded her, the Ironflames needed warriors, not... whatever she was. Currently, she was playing nanny for Clive, but that excuse was precisely as reliable as the boy's mental states. "W-Well... can't you do that  _outside_ , at least? Clive's still sleeping!"

Arriving beside the crib, Malina slumped upon its rail, letting herself hang from her armpits with her hands limply dangling just above Clive's plush blanket. "Little asshole sleeps a lot for a seven-year-old," she muttered.

The other girl's eyes trailed somberly down to their brother. "Mother says it's because of his psyche. That it's... physically draining, somehow."

"Yeah, because  _that_ makes a ton of sense." Malina eyed her a bit, then continued, "You know, you don't have to swallow every word she says as indisputable fact just because she's your mom."

Mitomi winced, glancing awkwardly back at Malina. "She's... technically  _your_ mother too, you know."

It earned her an eye roll, the yellow of Malina's reptilian eye reflecting the room's soft candlelight. "That's just a title. It doesn't count in any way that actually  _matters_."

From the way they were positioned, and the way Malina was still leaning on the edge of Clive's crib, Malina couldn't see the moisture gathering in Mitomi's eyes, nor the way her head had begun to droop and her hands had started anxiously picking at the hem of her shirt. "How... How can you say that?" she practically whimpered, barely able to keep her voice steady. "Sharing Mother is part of what makes us sisters."

"Why would we want  _that_?" Malina twisted away from Clive so quickly it startled Mitomi out of her upset trembling. A wide smirk slapped across her face, it was impossible to tell if she'd caught how upset the whole thing had made Mitomi. Sometimes Malina's total oblivion hurt, but it was also the very thing which made everything she said and did feel that much more genuine. "We're going to become parabatai. That's  _way_ better, isn't it?"

For a moment, Mitomi grew quiet. Soon thereafter, joy blossomed across her face, widening her eyes and pulling her smile across the full of her cheeks. "Y-Yes! Yes, it is!" she exclaimed, suddenly reaching forward to grasp Malina's hands. "To become your parabatai... That would be the most wonderful thing!" Belatedly, she grew hesitant, her head tilting in question. "You're... sure that you want to... ?"

Malina frowned. "What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I want to. You're the only person in this whole damn Institute who gets me, who I can actually be  _myself_ around."

"Malina," Mitomi murmured, stepping closer to her sister. She yearned to say something - anything - to try and quiet the strain Malina clearly felt towards the rest of their family, something that might help put her at ease.

Before she could think of anything, a sudden screaming erupted, filling the whole room. Immediately, the girls' attentions snapped to Clive, Malina whirling back around in a kind of wide-eyed panic while Mitomi all but stampeded up against the crib beside her. Mitomi's arms dove down into the crib to retrieve their waking brother, holding him fast against her and rocking gently in a desperate attempt to soothe him. "It's alright, Clive, it's alright!" she urgently whispered, one hand anxiously stroking his hair.

"N-No! No, it's not!" the young boy protested, pushing away from his sister.

The relief Malina'd felt at the revelation Clive had woken in a competent and fully-functioning mental state deflated the moment she realized his tear-soaked eyes were locked upon her. "M-Mali!" he cried, struggling out of Mitomi's arms to reach towards Malina.

Though she felt completely out of her comfort zone, Malina nonetheless awkwardly reached out to take their brother from her sister. "What?!" she demanded, perhaps a bit more sharply than she should've been. She exchanged a panicked look with Mitomi, during which she caught the imploring incline of her sister's head, then sighed and tried again with Clive, forcing herself to be just a bit kinder, more approachable. "I'm fine, Clive," she insisted, forcing a smile. "See? All good!"

" _No_!" he protested again, his small hands gripping the straps of her tank-top. "Mali, you don't understand! I'm... I'm not gonna see you again!"

The ominous turn of words unsettled both girls. An unspoken but shared thought passed between their eyes, Mitomi subtly nodding before turning and fleeing the room to fetch their Mother. Meanwhile, Malina sighed, firmly removing their brother's hands from her shirt and coaxing him back into a sit within his crib. "Cut it out. That's a bunch of nonsense."

"No it's  _not_!" he insisted. "You're gonna leave me and never—"

"I said that's  _enough_!" Mitomi snarled, allowing herself to be more firm with him again. It was taking more effort lately to enforce their parents' strict rules about Clive not speaking too much about his experiences. Even if without the rules, however, Mitomi was quite convinced she wanted nothing to do with it, feeling it'd only serve as a paranoid distraction from her duties as a Shadowhunter of Pine Brook Institute. "Now listen," she asserted, glaring down at Clive. "I don't care what you've seen or whatever. I'm  _going_ on mission tonight with Bradley and Kita, and I  _will_ come back alive, alright?" She grinned down at him, trying to mask the beginnings of needling doubt behind an overabundance of haughty confidence. "I'm ready. I got this."

Clive just stared up at her, lips wanting to say something but mind finally catching up enough to recognize he shouldn't -  _couldn't_. He bowed his head, then submissively conceded, "...I know you will."


End file.
